- Dog Tales
- December 18, 2023
Pawsburg’s Winter Whiskers: A Love Story on the Stage: A Ruby PawWord Story
Hey Jenny,
Just wanted to say thanks for believing in me. Tonight, under the magical Pawsburg moon, I didn’t just fetch admiration, I became a star! My paws trod the stage and my heart sang with the joy of a thousand jingling collars. Can’t wait to curl up at home and dream of my next grande dogventure. Oh, and guess what? Whiskers and I had a moment. 🌟🐾
Much woof,
Ruby Roo 🐶💖✨
There’s a crispness that dances through the air of Pawsburg, a sort of sparkle that kisses each snowflake drifting down from the cobalt sky. I, Ruby, with my visual charm – a fawn coat accented by the crinkle above my nose and my signature red collar – find Winter’s embrace a backdrop for the most enchanting escapades.
Now, this isn’t just any snowy eve. Tonight’s the eve of the Great Pawsburg Christmas Show. You see, Jenny always says “Ruby, make the most of this life,” as she hands me a slice of cheese. Tonight, those words ring like the jingle bells on shop doors.
I trot past The Doggie Daycare, the chatter about the show sounds like a symphony. We animals of Pawsburg, we thrive on whispers of excitement; we live for drifted snow clumping onto our paws as we prance to the town square. Sasha the Beagle bounds up, her eyes reflecting the fairy lights strung above. “Ready for the adventure?” she pants. I nod, wiggling with anticipation.
Our destination: Harrier Harbor, where the show stage shimmers under icicles and paw-penned scripts await. Every dog and their wagging tails are buzzing about roles and tunes, sprinkle-coated Whippet Wraps, and steamy Woof Waffles from The Canine Café.
I make my way as whispers hang in the frosty air. There’s talk of a play, a romance no less, and my role – a love-struck heroine, warm and witty. I’ll be paired with a charming Lab from Jade Jack Russell Junction. But what about Whiskers? His snarky personality is perfect for a comedy, perhaps he’ll be woven into the plot, tail high with pomposity.
Rehearsals begin under the brilliant guidance of Frost, the Samoyed director. Synced with the dialogues that bounce like a spirited conversation over dinner, we pirouette in prose. Sneaking a glance at Whiskers, I catch his wry amusement. Old friends, the two of us, with history as complex as a Nora Ephron plot.
Take a stroll through Canine Couture Clothing and you’ll find us, the cast, trying on our stage finery. “A little snug around the haunches, don’t you think?” quips Sasha, tilting her head to one side as the tailor cinches her costume. We laugh – echoes that rise and fall like the snowflakes outside.
The night of the show, Pawsburg glows with moonlight and Merryment. My nerves flutter like the wings of a butterfly trapped in a jar as I spot Jenny in the audience. She doesn’t know how true her words were, that I would make the most of this life – not just chasing sunbeams in her kitchen, but on this stage, under the stars.
The play unfolds. Romance and friendship, old flames flickered anew, while stars align for the star-crossed lovers among the cast. And there, a surprising scene unfolds – Whiskers, sharing a duet with a Dachshund, their harmonies melting the frost from the coldest snouts.
The final scene closes, and applause rises like the dawn. Whiskers shoots me a look that could mean anything, and there it is – that head tilting, heart-skipping moment when I think maybe, just maybe, he actually likes me.
Pawsburg, in its Winter wonder, is alight with the love of the season. And I, Ruby, feel the love returned a hundredfold, cheese and all. Jenny might see only an exhausted pug returning from an evening stroll, but little does she know, she’s fostering a star under her very roof. For there are no small parts, only small dog beds, and mine – just like my heart – is full to bursting.
The End.
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