Hey Mom, guess what? Your furball Paloma turned into an adventure princess last night! 🐾✨ I danced with a Nutcracker T-rex in a land of bone-flavored snowflakes but found out home’s where my heart truly wags. You always said reality’s the best story – well, ours has got magic! Pics of the T-rex’s royal makeover coming soon. 🦖👑😉 Hugs & slobbers, Toots 🐶💖

Listen to the story here

As the last vestige of twilight kissed the firmament goodbye, and the humans retired to their own muted worlds, I, Paloma, the rowdy-hearted bulldog of Cedar Lane, escorted my weary bones through a portal unseen by their eyes. Tonight, Pawsburgh beckoned, its cobblestone streets and lantern-lit boulevards aglow with a promise of Christmas mirth.

On this brisk eve, wreaths and garlands festooned the hamlet, and Cavalier Cove shimmered ‘neath the celestial ornaments decking the heavens. My pals Natty, Guiness, and Kahlua awaited me, tails a-waggin’, at Pup’s Parfait, where confections as rich and sweet as a pup’s dream lay in wait.

“Paloma,” Natty howled, his beagle eyes twinkling with conspiracy, “tonight’ll spin ya a tale ya won’t forget.”

“For tonight,” Guiness, the stout-hearted bulldog, chimed in, “yer beloved T-rex shall turn a princely shade of Christmas cheer!”

Kahlua barked, a chocolate lab with the smoothest temperament, “And off we shall whorl into worlds untold!”

Skeptical I remained, and with a swift roll of my verdant eyes, I met their claim with dangling disbelief. “Gentlepups,” said I, firm as a steak not to be relinquished, “my loyalty to reality is a leash not easily slipped.”

Yet, as the chime of midnight tolled its spectral peal, my T-rex – confidant of countless escapades, raggedy protector of my sunlit sanctum – stirred. Ah, sorcery! Before a bulldog’s confounded snout, he arose, growing grandeur, clothed in a regalia of princely proportions, a crown upon his stuffed, noble head.

Rapt and astonished, I acquiesced to the call of enchantment, offering my paw to this newfound prince. With a flourish, he led me to Kelpie Keys where ships bobbed like Yuletide ornaments on a sleepy sea.

Upon a galleon of dreams, we sailed, the Keys receding into a midnight blur as the Pawsburgh I knew vanished into a tapestry of tales spun from a ball of ceaseless Christmas yarn.

“Ahoy, Paloma!” called my T-rex, now more than a mere toy. “The Nutcracker Pup’s empire lies ahead. Y’see them bright lights dancin’ beyond yonder ocean?”

Indeed, I did – a land more opulent than Setter’s Steakhouse on a banquet night. Sugarplum fairies pirouetted upon drifts of icing sugar, canine cavaliers marched to a merry beat, and the air was alive with the magic of bone-flavored snowflakes.

A journey par excellence! And yet, amid the fanfare, my bulldog heart yearned for the simplicity of a chicken supper and a game of tug-of-war with my dearest confederates.

“Your highness,” says I to the T-rex, my voice tinged with homespun wisdom, “I reckon this magic’s as fine as a fresh bone on a Sunday, but my soul’s hearth is kinship and fetch, not sugared fantasia.”

Most gracious, my prince nodded and we turned the prow homeward, back to the terra firma where vacuum beasts roar and park pandemonium reigns. As we sailed, the T-rex’s crown faded, his royal attire melted away, and he resumed his trusty fabric form.

We arrived in Pawsburgh as dawn’s fingers pinked the canvas of the sky. The town was blissfully unaware of our nocturnal odyssey. My pals greeted us, eager for tales over nibbles at Dachshund’s Deli.

“You wouldn’t believe it,” I began, regaling them with the fabled expedition, “There’s more to this here T-rex than stitches and fluff.”

Bemused and weary, I retired to my backyard sanctuary as the sun crowned the horizon, the realm of Pawsburgh falling lax into day. Only in dreams did I revisit that Nutcracker realm, content in the knowledge that within the bounds of the everyday barks and whines, enchantment dwells, if a bulldog but believes.

The End.