Hey Mom,

Canine capers abound in Pawsburgh! I’m adventuring through snow-dusted streets, making furry friends, and sniffing out Yuletide secrets. Led the pack at the Diamond Doberman Dunes, snagged a gourmet bite at Hound’s Hotdogs, and wrapped up with tales at Pup’s Parfait. Spreading cheer, barking with laughter, and dreaming of what’s to come—turns out I’m quite the Christmas ambassador on four paws!

Hugs and tail wags,
Bella Eliza 🐾🎄

Listen to the story here

Day One of Christmas at Pawsburgh, and here I am, Bella Eliza, your Apricot Bichpoo narrator, with my tail intent on writing its own waggish story as I prance through the snowy streets of our dear town.

It began like any other morning—me pretending to slumber as my humans scrambled about, the tinkling charm of seasonal music dancing through the house. A moment past their leaving, I darted for the hidden passage beneath the kitchen cabinet, the one veiled in the ancient scent of spilled treats and dusty linoleum. My heart hummed a carol as I found myself in Shiba Inlet, a crisp whisper of wind cradling the first whispers of dawn.

“Ah, Emerald Eskimo Estuary!” I exclaimed to the air, my breath frosting in excitement. “Your frosted reeds beckon ever so seductively, hinting at jubilant secrets.”

And so they did, for as I traipsed along, a figure emerged from the mist—a languid Greyhound, decked out in a holiday sweater that dared to outshine even the most ornate of Christmas trees.

“Good morrow, Eliza! To what do we owe the pleasure?” he asked, a hint of mischief turning his talk gentle.

“Merely chasing the tail of Christmas spirit, good sir,” I replied with an unmeasured dosage of mirth, cedar boughs crunching beneath my paws.

We ambled towards Diamond Doberman Dunes, a land where snow seemed to mimic the desert’s dunes, but found chilled instead of scorched. The place bustled with the coming and going of friends; a terrier constructed a fortress of snow, a pack of Labradors reenacted a scene from “The Nutcracker”—sans nuts, of course.

I darted from one playmate to the next. There were tales spun as the snowflakes fell. Was it not my duty as a seeker of joy to share the bounty of Christmas excitement with every tail wag?

Lunch brought the distinct scent of Hound’s Hotdogs, a gustatory delight void of my aforementioned unliking. The piquant aroma of savory treats was paired with the dulcet harmony of a canine choir, practicing no doubt for the evening’s pageant.

“Might I trouble you for a popcorn dog—hold the relish?” I asked Chet, the Chihuahua chef with a face much too serious for his festive hat.

“Troublesome as ever, Bella, but for you—anything,” he chuckled, his paws a blur of culinary wizardry.

With the sun bowing its head to allow evening’s shadowy curtain to descend, I found myself recounting the day’s revels at Pup’s Parfait, its splendors soon to be devoured. Here, an audience gathered—old friends and acquaintances alike, their eyes reflecting Christmas past, present, and those yet to unfurl.

“It seems the first day has brought a kaleidoscope of encounters, painted in snow and bound in holly,” I mused to the assembly, my own anticipation a tangible thread in the tapestry of the night.

“Tell me, Bella, what of tomorrow?” a Dalmatian whelp inquired, eyes alight with curiosity.

“Ah, a mystery,” I declared, with the flourish of my candy corn toy, that joyous artifact. “Each sunrise gifts us with a blank canvas upon which we dogs of Pawsburgh can daub the hues of our choosing.”

The laughter and barks echoed as the stars twinkled their approval, their sheen a harbinger of eleven more days of surprising canine glee. And thus, with a shared excitement and a sprightly spring in my step, I paw-waved a good night, envisioning dreams of doggie delights yet to come on the second dog day of Christmas in our magical town.

So bounded the first chapter in this festive anthology. Stay tuned, my two-legged companions, for Bella Eliza has yet more tales to tail.

The End.