Hey Mom,

Had quite the day in Pawsburgh. Breakfast delivery for Luna (we’re pals now!), played the hero for Buddy’s family at the pet pharmacy, and tested my might with Bubs. Through joys and worries, I’m learning that family’s about standing strong together—even when the going gets ruff. Don’t worry, I’m embracing both the mischief and the steadfastness. Love you.

Bandit (aka Puppers) 🐾

Listen to the story here

Before the sun climbs its ladder to wake up the two-legged sleepers, I slip through the flap—daring, dreaming Bandit, fur still warm from the blanket’s embrace, golden eyes ablaze with the day’s unseen wonders. I shake off the sleep, the creak of dawn a symphony to my twitching ears, as Pawsburgh beckons with open paws.

The brisk air of Mastiff Meadows is my first stop. I aim to meet Bubs—the pit bull with a heart as big as his head—before daybreak’s glow paints the world anew. Today, we wrestle with troubles far greater than a rogue chew toy or a sneaky squirrel. You see, Bubs is more brother than friend, and the two of us, well, we’re family—a tapestry more colorful than my coat in the autumn twilight.

But then a scent—a waft, a whisper—the aroma of griddle-warm happiness leads me astray, four paws carrying me where my nose demands, to Paw-lickin’ Pancakes. Pancakes? No, not for me. Chicken is the siren song to my belly. But today’s meal isn’t about me.

“You’re early, Bandit,” gruffs Chef Rottweiler, his tail betraying his stern jowls with an eager wag. A nod, a hungry glance toward the sizzling kitchen, and he knows. “The usual to-go order for Luna?” he asks, his tail offering compliments before words.

Luna, my dearest tabby nuisance, awaits her surprise breakfast, a tradition somewhat new that knits our unlikely friendship ever tighter. Through the serpentine backstreets I dart—past Briard Bridge, a marvel of canine engineering—each stride a tiny drumroll to the grand entrance I shall make.

Her grateful ‘mrrrow’ is heartwarming, even if her feline haughtiness often hides her affection. But as I leave Luna’s, eyes soft with shared silence, I confront the day’s darker drama.

The Heart of Pawsburgh, the main drag with shingles humming business, holds a secret that’s known but not spoken—a truth I carry beneath my playful guise. The humans, blissfully unaware, see only the wag, never the worry. Hear not the silent symphony of our bond—a bond threatened now by Buddy, the old Great Dane, whose silvery muzzle whispers of time well spent. His human’s heart, so heavy, so hushed—Bubs and I sense it, the way we sense an impending storm.

At The Pawsome Pet Pharmacy, Buddy’s family gathers. His kiddos, the Scotty triplets, and his grandpups, yipping with innocent abandon, unaware of adult human sorrows.

“He’ll be okay,” I bark, more hope than certainty. My presence is a light distraction to the grandpups, a kinship of the moment. Bubs takes charge, nosing me aside with brotherly bravado. “Let’s give them space, Bandit.” Family’s no stranger to rough currents, and ours is no different—a ship cutting through waves, sometimes gliding, oftentimes heaving.

The evening sighs closer, snuggling Pawsburgh under twilight’s quilt. I visit familiar shops, Happy Hounds Dog Walking closed, the last leash hung—a reminder of the unspoken sands trickling beyond our shepherd’s watch.

I resolve to end today where it began, at Mastiff Meadows, pitting my might against Bubs in a somber tug-of-war, thoughts heavy as the rope between us.

As shadows grow long and hearts fuller from shared strife, I remember, family isn’t just about the joys and the games—it’s about standing together when the meadows grow dark and the pancakes lose their warmth.

And in the quietude, I am Bandit. Mischief in my eyes, steadfastness in my heart, surfing Pawsburgh’s ebb and flow—yes, even me, the smallest of chieftains, has my ghosts and glories to tame.

The End.

Share This Story: