Hey Mom! 🎄✨ Just wanted you to know that I’ve been quite the canine philanthropist in Pawsburgh tonight! I led our furry friends on a Christmas quest – we spread love and treats to the less fortunate pups. Feeling like Santa Paws! Our hearts are full and our tails tired. Can’t wait to snuggle and tell you all about it. Lots of woofs and wags, Piper 🐾💖

Listen to the story here

It was another crisp, yuletide evening as I, Piper, the Blue Merle Sheltie of subtle fame, made my spirited escape to the ever-magical Pawsburgh. The twilight sky above mirrored my coat, while my Mom’s hushed “Goodnight, Piper” still echoed behind me. Tonight’s agenda brimmed with potential, for Christmas was upon us and Pawsburgh shimmered with a jubilant charm that could wag even the sternest tail.

I trotted past Schnauzer Street, the lampposts garlanded in silvery tinsel, as muffled barks of joy spilled from homes filled to the brim with mistletoe and the scent of pine. Turning onto Bichon Boulevard, I caught sight of the grandeur of Samoyed Square, alight with a tree towering above us all, decadent as a king’s feast and twice as fragrant.

In the holiday hubbub, my paws instinctively carried me to Spaniel Spaghetti, where the essence of meatballs and marinara wafted through the air like a loving whisper. Yet, I had other plans; I was due at Retriever’s Restaurant for a festive dinner that promised more gossip than the latest edition of The Daily Bark. As I arrived, the maitre d’ greeted me with the kind of smile that made any dog’s heart sing.

The night filled with laughter and stories of gallant adventures, but as banter danced among the dinner dishes, the spirit of Christmas gave a nudge: Piper, be the good in the world. So I rose to my paws, shaking my head like my octopus toy during its dance of delight, thoroughly exciting the crowd. I cleared my voice, delicate as the tingling of a sleighbell.

“Friends, furry and few, I have a tale of Christmas spirit not found under the tree or within a neatly wrapped box. Though we revel in this splendor, some are left out in the cold, their hearts in need of merriment and warmth. Let’s extend our paws in generosity,” I proclaimed, tail wagging with determination.

The packed room grew quiet, the tale of the Dog who Gave Too Much legendary among their barks; forgiveness was its heart, generosity, its tail.

I continued, my voice a gentle howl, “Tonight, we are a family, and as such, let us trot forth bursting with a love that knows no breed nor boundary, sharing treats and toys with those less fortunate.”

Consent came in the form of tails thumping, applause thundering like a thousand scampering paws.

Our furry procession left Retriever’s Restaurant and wound through the snow-dusted streets of Pawsburgh, delivering chew toys and bits of feast, to pups without a hearth or humans to call their own. We gave not until we had no more, but until every dog felt the comfort of shared Christmas warmth.

Upon our return, the grand Christmas tree stood a beacon to our deed, its twinkling lights reflecting like stars in our eyes. And so, as we nestled in the square, stories of our generous escapade intertwined with legends of Christmas past, we glimpsed the true spirit of the season—a light that never dims nor wanes.

As the evening yawned to a close, my heart brimming with the camaraderie of shared cheer, I whispered a promise to the stars, “To be the warmth in someone’s cold, the story in their silent night.” I would recount tonight’s tale to Mom, so she could see through my eyes the miracles each of us is capable of, even in the quiet moments before dawn.

With that, my paws whisked me home, ready to awaken from a Christmas Tail assured to be recounted for many winters to come.

The End.