“Hey Mom, it’s Tozer. Just wanted to assure you that I’m not idle—tonight I became royalty, scepter and all, in the luminescent snow-globe realm of Pawsburgh. My adventures were sweet, though unmarred by the usual fry hunt. I led a fur brigade under fairy light, and yeah, even the rain couldn’t put a damper on our high spirits. Heading home now, belly full but hungry for our next escapade. Sweet dreams from your Mr. Man. 🐾👑”

Listen to the story here

Sun had long surrendered to the moon’s quiet watch when I, Tozer, the red and white charmer and king of jaunts, made my clandestine escape through the flap designed for my kind. The whisper of Pawsburgh’s enchantment tickled my ears. My nose twitched with anticipation, my Tonka Tire Tug Toy – a steadfast ally – gripped firmly in my slobbering jaws.

Whisking through the Quartz Qimmiq Quarter with the flair of a seasoned noir detective, I caught glimpses of my reflection – a debonair bulldog with the heart of a lion and the appetite of a gastronome. I had tales told in barks and yips that could fill a library, and tonight was the eve of yet another saga.

Samoyed Square buzzed with fairy lights and the hustle of paws. I caught an exchange of sly winks with Sarge, who seemed prepared to marshal the troops at a nap’s notice. Duchess was draped over a bench like she owned the place, which – in her unfathomable elegance – she probably thought she did.

The hour chimed midnight; not that I care for human timepieces, but it signified our transformation, a jaunt from the ordinary to the surreal world of Pawsburgh. There, amid the harbinger of tinseled trees and sparkling trinkets, my Tonka Tire transformed under Pawsburgh’s spell. Gone were the synthetic rubbery ridges; in their stead, a resplendent plume of plumes and faux-loyalty – a scepter for the canine royalty I fancied myself to be.

Strutting past Fido’s Feast, the air filled with the fragrant felonies of stews and meats that could coax confessions from a statue, I resisted. French fries were my soul’s song – an odd delight – but not tonight. Tonight was not for the mundane munch.

Barking Brunch was serving Yule-inspired cuisine, but I steered clear of this too. Adventure, my dear amigos, was not caged within the walls of consumption. It was in the illicit thrill of Pawsburgh’s wintry embrace.

Shiba Inlet echoed with the whispers of a thousand doggy dreams. I nipped and tugged at my scepter, surging forth knowing well that a true lord of the realm feared no nefarious vacuum dragons lurking in the shadows of the mundane world. Though I banish it, it haunts my quiet moments; I danced away from the thought.

En route to my exploit, the heavens dared to conspire; drops began to pelt my royal cloak. Curse the rain! An ignoble bane upon my splendor. But the fields of Pawsburgh called, and like the Nutcracker himself, I would not shirk from my appointed rounds.

In the Doggy Depot, amid the din of comrades rallying under flickering fairy lights, it hit me. This was not the breed of adventure procured from shelves and aisles. Tonight, I embodied the princely pup of Yuletide lore. My tire, my scepter roiled with a showman’s gyrations, leading my faithful battalion in a gallant frolic.

“No mere rain or boorish vacuum wonks can stifle our carol,” I yapped to Sarge, who nodded with the weight of a general.

Duchess, her Great Dane stature breaking through the romp with regality, let out a bark that resonated as both a laugh and a decree.

The euphoria of Pawsburgh crescendoed to such a height, it seemed as if dawn itself might hesitate to call us back. For Tozer and his brigade, each adventure woven into the fabric of our beings, each moment a testimony to our unfettered spirits.

And as the portal to home yawned, I turned once more to glance upon our fantastical realm – a fleeting paradise of pawprints on the snow, a testament to joy unfettered. With shaggy hops and a tire with tales to tell, I lolloped home to dream of the next chapter, unfurling under canopies of Christmas magic and the savory sin of those delightful, delectable fries.

The End.