Hey Dad! 🐾

Guess what? Your adventurous Lollypop just had the time of her life here in Pawsburgh. I sniffed out the heart of Xmas—the chase was on for treats and friendship under twinkly lights and it was pawsitively heartwarming. Peggy and I totally rocked the promenade, dodged salads at Bark Buffet, made some tail-wagging memories, and found out that the love buzzing through town is the real spirit of the holidays. 🎄 Oh, and I totally nailed a photo shoot with my cute ears. Pawsburgh’s festive magic is real!

Woofs and wags,
Lola 🐶💕

Listen to the story here

‘Twas a nippy evening in Pawsburgh when I first caught wind of it—the unmistakable scent of Yuletide frolic percolating through the crisp air. I’m Lola, by the way, a White Australian Bulldog with a penchant for adventure. And this tale, well, it’s one of holiday spirit and the interlacing paths of affection that bind our hearts tightly together, not unlike the ribbons on a Christmas gift.

The gleam of Pearl Papillon Promenade was rather muted that night. Festoons of fairy lights twinkled like the beckoning eyes of a thousand Chihuahuas, orchestrating the allure of the seasonal joy. I, harboring a zest for life that could outshine the Rockefeller tree, trotted along the cobbled streets, my ears dyed in the earth’s palette, wagging my snowy tail more effectively than any caroler commanding attention.

Behind the façade of Baubles and the enchanting promenade, I had, as a tradition, always found respite in my backyard sanctuary, relishing the cheeseburger dreams that tickled my fancy. But tonight held a promise, a canine convolution of love and friendship wrapped neatly beneath the Pawsburgh sky. At Mastiff Meadows, where tails spun tales, the excitement was palpable, and our barks harmonized into a carol of companionship.

Between my enthusiasm for the spirited meet and the hum of anticipation, there was an entity, Peggy, a graceful hound with the gentility of a dove—my anchor, my confidante in a sea of slobbering merriment. We rendezvoused as Pilgrims to Plymouth, delighted in the sanctity of our union; our lineage, albeit different, was no divider of our affection.

“Oh, Lola, stand still will you? Best in Show Photography wants a shot of your endearing brown ears!” Peggy nuzzled, her words wrapped in the warmth of muzzles pressing against the cold. A mirthful snort escaped me as the flash captured more than a moment—it captured an essence, our essence of pure canine fidelity.

Our escapade continued at Bark Buffet, noses high, and hearts alight, save for my imperious disinterest in the dish of the day—salad. Peggy, a creature of less discriminating taste, eyed me with soft rebuke. “Oh, give it a go, Lola! Such are the days to savor even the dreaded greens,” she implored. But no leaf could tempt me, no herb could sway. My tastes were etched in simpler, meatier truths.

Now it wasn’t just the decadent aromas of Hound’s Hotdogs that kept us afoot. The soiree, a canine congregation, was rendered majestic as each pup shared the echo of the year’s end—a time for recollection, a time for gratitude.

In the throes of the soirée, I found myself enveloped by an all-encompassing love. Not merely the love of savory tidbits, but the love that charges through Pawsburgh like an electric current, binding every beast big and small. It was amidst the wooly warmth of friendship and the joyful jubilation of connection that the profound simplicity of our lives was celebrated—in the here, in the now, and forever in the heart.

Reflecting upon these moments, as the stars overhead twinkled their knowing winks, I understood that Christmas isn’t just a season, it’s a feeling. A feeling that traverses the barriers of breed, defies the cold snap of winter, and whispers in every wag that love, actually, is all around us—in Pawsburgh and beyond.

The End.