Hey Sam,

Just a heads up, I had quite the evening! While you were indulging in human festivities, I was whisked away to a Yuletide ball in the enchanting land of Pawsburg. There, I danced under the moonlight with the Prince of Pawsburg and all our canine comrades. All the fancy fluffing and exquisite eats, you’d have been proud! Now, as dawn caresses the sky, I’m back, guarding our realm until our next midnight masquerade. Can’t wait to tell you all about it!

Till next time,

Nellie the Dream Dancer 🐾

Listen to the story here

From my perch atop the overstuffed, cerulean cushion in the bay window, the hushed blanket of dusk began to envelop Pawsburg. Ah, ’tis I, Nellie, the Blue Merle Border Collie, unparalleled in my agility and unmatched in my disdain for sudden precipitation. Sam, my devoted human – the bringer of apples and scratcher of itches in places I dare not bend to reach – was off to a holiday party, decked in an unsightly Christmas sweater, leaving me to my evening refuge.

The soft glow of streetlights reflects on the snow outside, tinting the world with an ethereal hue and inviting a familiar transformation. With the enchantment hour upon us, the stillness of the house beckons me to surrender to the call of Pawsburg. Snatching up my rubber chicken – Sir Squeaks-a-Lot – and the ever-trusty tennis ball, I prepare for tonight’s venture.

As midnight chimes resonate in the human world, the veil between realms grows thin. I gaze upon the festively adorned Christmas tree, my eyes fixed upon the singular ornament that is the harbinger for the night’s otherworldly excursion – a tiny toy dog, crafted with the same merle cloak as mine. Like the Maple Leaf turning in autumn, it twirls and, with a subtle glow, its enchantment takes hold, swelling life-size before me.

“My little shepherd,” it whispers, the Prince of Pawsburg now present in the room. “The Yuletide ball awaits.” With a bow he offers a paw.

We leap from the comforts of my human-claimed demesne and each leap transitions us to the cobblestone avenues of Pawsburg. “Look lively, Nellie,” he beckons, as we dash through Eskimo Estuary, its frozen beauty glistening under a moonlit sky, dogs of all breeds gliding valiantly over the iced trails.

Arriving at Pearl Papillon Promenade, festooned with twinkling lights and tinsel, it exudes the aroma of Shepherd’s Shawarma – a perfumed concoction that speaks more of lamb than any nursery rhyme. I feel a twitch, my saliva betraying me, urging me to indulge before the grand affair, but with elegant restraint, I keep pace with my princely escort.

A stop at The Dapper Dog Salon is customary, for one cannot attend a ball bedraggled. A quick fluff, a spritz of eau de toilette that hints of bacon and autumn leaves, and I’m escorted away from this den of vanity.

Finally, we arrive at Pawsburg Castle, a rich tapestry of barks and yips filling the gleeful air. The grandeur of the Yuletide ball unfolds, a cacophony of wagging tails and merriment. My friends, from the sagacious Max to even the genteel Fluffy, whose disdain for dogs seems to vanish in the magic of the night, twirl and leap with the elegance of ballroom dancers.

Amid the festivities, the melody of Tchaikovsky’s “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” rises, and as if called by an unseen conductor, we perform our own Nutcracker Pup ballet. We swirl and leap, paws touching down with the smallest tinkle, a symphony of grace and unwavering joy.

The night spins away, and as dawn’s first light perforates the Pawsburg sky, my princely companion nods, his visage fading into the coming day. Grasping my cherished toys with a promise to keep the memories tucked between my ears, I reemerge in the bay window’s embrace, just as Sam’s key turns in the lock.

“Had quite the dream, Nellie?” Sam whispers, seeing me nestled, toys in tow, the faintest smile on his lips as if sharing the secret of my nightly escapades.

“Only the best,” I’d say if I could. In my heart, the thrill of the chase, the boundless adventures, and the whisper of snowflakes on fur speak of another night in Pawsburg – the wondrous place where dreams take shape, and where even a gallant dog might share a dance with a prince.

The End.