Hey there,

Just a heads up – while you were out, I led the tail-wagging troops in a “Home Alone” rerun, protecting The Doggie Daycare from two would-be Grinches. Not only did we turn their plans to kibble, but we’ve got the sirens singing our song of victory! Turns out I’m more than just a treat connoisseur—I’m also Pawsburg’s furriest hero. 😉

Catch you soon!

– King 👑🐾

Listen to the story here

In the enchanted embers of Pawsburg’s twilight, I, King, the gallant pit bull with a penchant for chicken treats and disdain for thunderous skies, set paw into an adventure as unexpected as finding a full dish of poutine abandoned by Pup’s. It was the festive season, and the air was thick with the scent of Tail-Twitching Treats and the jolly barks of my fellow canines.

At The Doggie Daycare, the place I frequented in the care of the footloose and fancy-free, a strange silence crept in with the snowflakes. The Keeper of Strays had left on holiday errands, trusting me to look after the rambunctious lot of furballs that stayed behind. It’s the kind of trust that loads your heart like a heavily laden sled – both warming and burdensome.

As the clock chimed twelve in the spirit of holiday magic, my sensitive ears, perky as they are, caught the out-of-tune whisper of ill intent. Two shadowy figures lurked outside. Unaccustomed to such skullduggery, my tail twitched not in excitement, but in alarm. In Pawsburg, even the alley’s whispers echo with goodwill; these sinister murmurs were certainly not from our friendly streets.

My dear reader, you’re familiar with Home Alone, yes? Picture me – King, the defender of the kennel, a silver-furred Macaulay Culkin – braced for dogged battle against two would-be intruders. But as Nora Ephron would have insisted, this encounter absolutely must include wit, and perhaps even some heart-to-heart.

“I knew we shouldn’t have hit a pet place over the holidays, Earl,” grumbled the taller bandit, peeking through the windows.

“Quit your whining, Gus. Rich folks dump their pedigrees here riper than a Christmas ham for pickin’!” retorted Earl, their breath fogging up the chill air.

Strategizing quickly, I mustered the courage that surged beneath my silvery coat, and I nudged Biscuit, the golden retriever whose snoring could outmatch any holiday revelry.

“Biscuit, wake up, you Saint Nick wannabe. We have grinchlings at the gate,” I whispered, my voice firm as Hound Heights but hopeful as sunrise on Akita Alley.

“Huh? Wha—? King, I was dreaming of Pup’s Poutine!” She blinked her citrus-hued eyes, still cloudy with dreams of gravy-covered goodness.

“Don’t worry, sunshine. With me here, there’s no need to stress your pretty golden head. Now, what would an intruder least expect at a doggie daycare?” I mused aloud.

Biscuit batted her eyelids. “A welcome party?”

“Close. How about a bark-off worthy of a Pawsburg’s Got Talent finale?” I grinned, that hissing threat of danger turning into a sly challenge.

Like a well-oiled canine chorus, the residents of The Doggie Daycare leapt into action. A cacophony of barks, howls, and an impromptu percussion of tails thumping against the kennel walls blossomed into the night.

The bandits reeled back, clutching their ears. “They’re just dogs, how are they this organized?!” Gus pled to the universe at large.

Even Whiskers, the alley-cat sovereign, granted us a rare nod of solidarity, her feline gaze piercing through the frosty moonlight.

In the end, with the spirit of camaraderie infused within every bark and yip, the intruders’ audacity crumbled quicker than a hastily baked holiday cookie.

As the sirens neared, spurred by the vigilant calls from our human neighbors, I settled back into the warmth of my cozy bed, red dragon squeak-toy beneath my robust chin. Upon the arrival of the Keeper of Strays, I shared this tale of courage and cunning, my dogged wit gleaming brighter than the silver gleam of my mutual coat.

And so, dear friend, this Christmas tale from Pawsburg – where the spirit of friendship and bravery twinkles brighter than the most ornate harness at The Pawfect Training Center – reaches its end. Not all heroes wear capes; some have paws, and a thundering dislike for villains with an appetite for holiday havoc.

The End.