Hey 🌟,

Just wanted to let you know that last night I turned into a real-life Santa Paws! Found a lost pup in the storm and brought him home to a hero’s welcome at the Doggie Diner. The true Christmas spirit isn’t just about munching on smoked chicken (though that’s a plus); it’s about pawing it forward and being the beacon in someone’s blizzard. Stay warm, and keep the spirit alive! 🐾❤️

Wagging in the snow,
Ava K. B.

Listen to the story here

One crisp night, not long before Christmas, with Leonardtown enshrouded in slumber, I, Ava Kailey Bree, found myself ambling towards that mystical gap between realms, the shimmering portal to Pawsburgh.

The silence of the lamplit road surrendered to the jubilant barks and buoyant echoes emanating from Kelpie Keys, as if the sea itself had sprouted paws and was beckoning me forth with its frothy tides.

I sauntered down the cobbled paths, the stones cool beneath my paws as I headed towards Weimaraner Woods. The moon, full and bold, hung low in the sky, bathing the grove in a soft glow that made the frosty needles twinkle. Amidst this enchanted scape, Weimaraner Woods’ rustic charm unfolded, where tales of camaraderie knitted a tapestry as rich and warm as any hearth rug.

Now and again, I’d peer into the gaily-lit windows of The Tail Wagger’s Tailor, the styles displayed melting the hearts of even the most rugged bulldogs, and the wafting scents from the Rottweiler’s Ribs made my jowls quiver with an anticipation that would have embarrassed me under less beguiling circumstances.

I was celebrating the season with friends at the Doggie Diner, musing over juicy cutlets fresh off the grill, when an eerie quiet descended. The murmur of merriment ceased as the first flakes of snow began to fall from an ink-black sky.

‘Twas then, amidst the silence that crept into our sanctuary, a little voice piped up from the corner of the room. “A pup’s lost out there, on Christmas Eve!” whispered Sammy, an old Beagle whose snout had sniffed out more truths than most books could claim.

A shiver more pressing than the cold danced upon my spine. Without a moment’s hesitation, instinct took over. With a brief nod to my companions, I ventured forth from the warm enclave of camaraderie into the solo venture of the night.

One must wonder at this point whether I was of sound mind, venturing in such weather for a pup, a stranger to me as cucumbers are to fine dining. Yet, there laid the magic of Pawsburgh, the sprouting of goodwill from within the heart of our canine haven. As I trekked through the burgeoning blizzard, I could not help but think of my own beloved human, nameless to you, yet etched in my heart like an undying ember of grace.

It wasn’t long before a muffled yelp reached my ears, more effective than any town crier, and I, urged by unseen hands of fate, found my way to Newfoundland Nook. There, cowering beneath the candied canopy of a grand Spruce, was the wee fellow—an Irish Setter with looks to melt snow.

With a wag of encouragement, I nudged him gently, his trust instant in the way only those truly lost can afford. We commenced the journey back, paws crunching over what had now developed into a snowy white canvas. Speaking not a word, our spirits hummed a tune of silent camaraderie.

Upon our return, a hearty cheer erupted as if we had defeated the fiercest of dragons rather than merely the bite of frost. Our newfound friend was smothered in affection; platters of smoked chicken (and conspicuously absent of any celery) appearing as if conjured by the festival spirits themselves.

As the wee lad tucked in, I noticed amongst the jubilation the casual nod of affirmation from my friends, the unspoken connection that I had done right.

On that snowy Christmas Eve in Pawsburgh, I, Ava Kailey Bree, had upheld the virtues of guidance and kindness which are the essence of our Yuletide spirit. And therein lies the truth: no matter the realm—be it human hearth or hound’s hideaway—the essence of the festive spirit remains the same, guiding lost travelers back to the warmth of home and heart.

The End.