Hey there, human! 🐾 Just a quick update from my side – I basically turned Pawsburg into a yuletide scene straight out of a pupper’s dream! There was tinsel-tailored mischief, a paw-licking parade for paella, and some high-pitched caroling by yours truly. Led the pack in a snowy race (came second to Super Sail Ear Max), shared peanut butter cheers, and spread some tail-wagging holiday love to the newbies. Can’t wait to snuggle and spill all the de-tails! 🌟

Dreaming in tinsel and mischief,
Trixie 🐶✨

Listen to the story here

On the first day of Christmas, Pawsburg awoke to a curious spectacle: Ruby Rottweiler Ridge was draped in tinsel, each shiny silver strand dangling like a rogue comet’s tail. And who, pray tell, was the architect of such sparkling mischief? Yours truly, Trixie the Pug, naturally. I had swiped them from the closet when Ellie wasn’t looking, her giggles still echoing in the corners of my memory.

The second day brought the scent of Pup’s Paella wafting through Shiba Inlet, tickling my whiskers and compelling a parade of drooling comrades, tails wagging in syncopated rhythm. Max led the charge with a howl that resonated off the water, while Bella, dignified as ever, merely rolled her eyes and followed the scent trail with less theatrics.

Third came the meeting under Pomeranian Park’s largest fir tree, now garnished with an array of contrasting bones – a festive touch c/o the local Fidos who shared a love for the absurd. Here, we assembled our holiday chorus, barking out renditions of “Bark the Herald Angels Sing,” my voice cracking especially high on the woofy notes.

Day four greeted us with a snowfall so heavy that it turned Pom’s Pies into a quaint-looking igloo. Our breaths hung in the air, wondrously visible puffs, as we strategized the construction of our doggy fortress. Bella took it upon herself to oversee the icy ramparts with strategic sheepdog precision.

Onward to the fifth, where The Dapper Dog Salon hosted the great ribbon-tying ceremony. Every pup’s collar was adorned with ribbons so vibrant, it would make a rainbow envious. Even our canine cynic, Max, couldn’t help wagging his tail a bit more spiritedly as the mirror revealed his transformation.

The sixth unleashed us into revelry as Puppy Patisserie catered an early Christmas feast, peanut butter and chicken the stars of the menu. Delighted, I indulged heartily, the creamy and savory bliss urging my tail to compose its own jolly metronome concerto.

Heaven forbid I forget the seventh, when the skies seemed to agree that a break from snowy escapades was in order. We lounged under the ghostly wisteria of Shiba Inlet, sharing tall tails – well, as tall as a Pug’s tail can get – and dozing intermittently under the weak winter sun, paw in paw with fantasy.

But, the eighth brought our annual challenge: The Great Pawsburg race. From The Wagging Tail Bookstore to Woof and Whisker Wellness Center, we darted past all our favorite haunts. Giddy with the familiar adrenaline, I led for a while until Max, ears like floppy sails, caught a gust of wind and the prize.

The ninth? Well, that was all about giving back. We frolicked door to door, delivering handcrafted toys to every new pup in town, and seeing their eyes light up was a fair present for the gift-giver, I’d say.

On the tenth, the snow transformed into ample stocks of paws-ready snowballs. We skirmishing in good spirits, our battlefield marked by joyful yips and occasionally the thud of a misaimed snowball.

As eleven descended upon us, we gathered in the heart of Pawsburg, snouts lifted in melodic howl to the Christmas Eve moon, a canine carol to warm the coldest of nights.

Finally, day twelve marked our return, the trek back to our humans. But for a fleeting moment, as the hooks of sleep began to pry from each curious canine eye, Pawsburg shimmered under the festive lights, a wonderland woven from dreams and the undying spirit of doghood camaraderie.

Glossy-eyed, my contemplation is interrupted by Ellie’s gentle snore. Time to nestle in that corner of sunlight, and perhaps whisper of Pawsburg, if only in my dreams.

The End.