Hey family,

Just had a paws-itively profound evening realizing I’m more than just the hound with the boundless bark—I’m the glue holding our spirits together. I’m prepared to snuggle away the blues and be the valiant veggie-tolerant knight I never knew I was. Sending tail wags & face licks your way!

Love,
Titus 🐾

Listen to the story here

In the whispering winds of Pawsburgh, where the barks echo with the vibes of canine camaraderie, I, Titus, ambled through Samoyed Square with the kind of gravitas that other dogs might say smacks of a four-legged philosopher. Ah, the perks of being a pitbull with presence.

As I wound my way to Collie’s Cuisine, a haze of gloom clung to me tighter than my collar on a vet’s day. You see, lately, my human family had seemed preoccupied, their laughter a few octaves lower, and my intuitive pup-heart felt somewhat heavy – a regular trotting, melancholy fur-ball.

The aroma of roasting chicken nearly lifted my spirits – until it was undercut by the tang of Brussels sprouts, that vile vegetation. Of course, a chicken entrée lured me in, but still – that angelic herbivore? No, thank you.

Dwelling on my dispirited state, I barely noticed Buster’s jowly smirk or Molly’s boisterous ‘hello’ as she cartwheeled past me, Frisbee in mouth. “What’s eating at you, Titus?” she barked.

“Life, my dear Molly. Life and its perpetual conundrums,” I replied with a hefty sigh.

As I labored over my half-hearted meal, there came an unusual chill, and with it—an ethereal glow. A mist swirled around my bowl, and there materialized an otherworldly hound, a translucent Spaniel with a knowing twinkle in his eye.

“Titus,” he woofed. “I’m Gabriel, your tail-wagging guardian of sorts. Bear with me as we embark on a little Christmas Eve revelation stroll.”

I scoffed, thinking, ‘If I had a bone for every revelation I’ve had…’

But humor me, he did. With a flash, we were in my human’s home, silent as shadows. The clock neared midnight as my cherished family gathered, a picture of quiet sorrow I’d ironically been blind to in the bustle of my doggy daydreams.

“Without your warmth, Titus,” whispered Gabriel, “this home would be as joyless as a park without squirrels.”

I watched as my human sister cuddled my favorite plush toy, her face etched with longing. My human brother sat with my leash in his hands, his eyes distant and laced with quietude.

Gabriel’s voice a soft caress, said, “You’re the heart of this family, dear pup, your love as ubiquitous as the very air they breathe.”

With each tender memory played before me—of nuzzling away their tears, of exuberant welcomes that turned dismal days delightful—I understood. Even my stoic acceptance of their vegetable-rich health sprees, my nose wrinkled, yet tail a-wagging, had been a rock in their stream of worry.

Back in Pawsburgh—reality’s gentle grip—I found myself once more at Collie’s. Buster leant over, whispering, “Dude, you froze mid-chew. You okay?”

“Just a little Christmas revelation, my friend.”

As the yawn of dawn tiptoed over Emerald Eskimo Estuary, my epiphany bloomed like the rarest of Pawsburgh roses. My woes weren’t so ponderous, and my presence? It was an unspoken sonnet of solace to those I adored.

That evening, I lay, a contented heap, nestled beside my humans. As they whispered grateful affections into my silken ears, every crack of thunder was now but a faint echo, drowned out by the warmth of hearth, heart, and hound.

In the Woody Allen-esque landscape of my life—a glorious ‘It’s a Wonderful Bark’ reality—I mused over my fine furry footprint. Yes, it was quite the tale to tell: of thunderstorms battled, vegetables dodged, and love… ah, love—the mightiest squeaky toy of them all.

The End.