Hey Dad,

Just had an epic adventure in Pawsburg, even met a guardian angel! Learned I’m more than just your loyal Beans—I’m the heart of home. Our town might have plenty of tales, but mine is fur-etched right beside you. Gonna live bigger, make tails wag, and be the top dog I was born to be. No more ennui for this Boshumbuddy!

Woof and wags,
Beans 🐾

Listen to the story here

In Pawsburg, the tales wag like their tails, boundless and spirited, each one a yarn spun from dreams and dogged adventures. In the hushed lull before dawn, when humans tangled in their sheets slumber unaware, I, Beans the Bulldog, would always find myself adrift from my cozy nook, my paws padding the ghostly twilight toward that enchanting town of tails.

This particular morning, with a yawn that could out-roar any lion from its den, I shook off sleepiness and sauntered past the Diamond Doberman Dunes, the cool sand tickling between my toes. My heavy heart didn’t quite match the usual trot, not on this melancholy Christmas Eve, clouded by a peculiar sense the humans call “ennui”. It gnawed at me, this sense of being just… a dog.

Arriving in town, the glittering Quartz Qimmiq Quarter flickered by half-heartedly. Even the air at Weimaraner Woods held no allure, the scents of pine and playmates failing to lift my spirits. The jovial barks of my four-legged friends echoed, but I couldn’t muster the heart to join them. Was my life just a series of fetches, naps, and nibbles?

But Pawsburg had other plans, you see. It’s that sort of magical place. So, there I was, my usual nook at Mastiff’s Meals, nursing a dog bowl glumly, when a faint rustle turned my ears. It came from a figure, shimmering like the first-dew on morning grass – a guardian angel, though no halo danced above its head.

“Beans,” it said, its voice like the tinkling of dog tags on a collar. “Why the long face?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, sharing the ache within my burly chest. “I just feel – incomplete.”

The angelic snout nudged closer, with a smile that could outshine any Christmas light. “Let’s take a walk, you and I. Let’s see the tail your life has wagged.”

And just like that, streets of Pawsburg unrolled the story of me – but different, an absence where my pawprints should be. A lonesome ‘shadow’ wandered the porch I knew so well, my dad’s side unmistakably empty. No bark cheered his return, no slobbery kisses greeted his mornings.

We strolled further, witnessing the sagging rope without my tug, the untouched ball gathering dust. A silence had befallen the place where my laughter once filled the air, where my energy had sparked others to romp and play.

“Do you see?” the angel gently nuzzled.

I saw. Saw the hollowed-out corners of my human’s heart, a Pawsburg less bright without my boundless beans.

“Beans, you’re more than play, more than watchdog, more than pet.” The angel’s words lifted the droop of my jowls. “You’re the heart of home.”

We returned to Mastiff’s Meals just as the sun crept over the horizon, the restaurant bustling with life. I spotted my pals, the usual merriment, the same – but I no longer felt apart from it. They needed my bark as much as I needed their wag.

“So, what now?” I asked, as the angel’s aura began to blur.

“Live, Beans. Live and make tails wag.” Then it was gone. The world of Pawsburg carried on, blissfully unaware. And yet… something had changed.

I gathered myself, the weight of my bulldog frame grounding me where I stood, the siren song of the crinkled treat bag calling me back to duty.

With that, I joined the carol of barks that sang out the rhythms of Pawsburg, the metronome of my tail marking each joyous beat. And off I trotted, Beans the Bulldog, with a purpose renewed and a spirit hoisted high above the rooftop chimneys. It truly was a wonderful bark, indeed.

The End.