Hey buddy! Chico here, aka Pawsburgh’s unofficial Racoon-Dog. 😏 Just guided a lost 🐶 back to his fam in a Christmas Eve adventure that puts Santa to shame! 🎅 Saving Christmas one wag at a time – who knew my fluffy tail could do more than knock things over? 🎄✨ Catch ya later – tails up! 🐾 #MiraclePup

Chico 🎩✨

Listen to the story here

Okay, you will not believe the tail—I mean, tale—I need to tell you about what happened last Christmas Eve in Pawsburgh’s own magical shimmer. Of course, you know me, Chico, the fluffy dog mistaken for a raccoon, and trust me, I wouldn’t spin you a yarn that isn’t absolutely paw-stounding.

So there I was, on the cusp of Christmas, strolling down Pearl Papillon Promenade in my most festive collar, the one with the tiny bells that jingle with every step. The kind of collar that screams, “I’m ready for my doggy-bag of holiday cheer from Barker’s Bakery!”

I had plans, big plans—planned plans—and they included snagging the last gingerbread doghouse at Barker’s. But as the spirit of Christmas goes, the universe had way more in store for me than sugar-coated roofs.

Turns out, Max, Tilly, Bella (don’t let her feline façade fool you), and I had just bounded into our clandestine holiday get-together when we spotted this lost German Shepherd, shivering outside Mutt Munchies. The poor guy was out of his collar, looking more disoriented than a cat at a dog festival. I could see in his eyes he was somebody’s Christmas Shepherd, and he was leagues away from whichever cozy hearth he belonged to.

Now, I know you think I’ve been watching too many holiday specials, but you know how I am with dramatic effect. Plus, Mindy Kaling teaches us to embrace our inner flair for the dramatic, right?

Anywoof, being the clever and devilishly attractive pooch that I am, I took the lead. “Hey, big guy,” I said, using my best conversational chew toy tone, “You look like you’ve taken a wrong turn at Kelpie Keys.”

His gentle eyes met mine as he woofed, “I’m lost. Was guiding my family’s car through a snowstorm, but they said, ‘Stay,’ and I did—until I saw this place twinkling with lights. Then I… just followed the glow.”

“Pawsburgh will do that to ya,” I chuckled. “But no fear! Chico and his pack are here.” I signaled to Max, whose bark could summon the entire town, Tilly, who could run like the wind, and Bella, who, for all her mysterious wisdom, could probably map the stars.

We launched into action like a squad of Santa’s fluffiest reindeer. First stop: Doggone Deli, because you can’t rescue on an empty stomach—and they have the best turkey trimmings, you know.

Tummies full, we braved the snow with our Christmas Shepherd. We darted through Topaz Terrier Town, where the lanterns glowed like tiny moons against the frosty night. We sniffed through Kelpie Keys until, thanks to my raccoon resemblance, we had a breakthrough. A family, searching high and low, waving a picture that could only be of our new friend.

“Rudolf!” they cried, which was, honestly, such a fitting name for a Christmas Shepherd.

The reunion was like something straight out of those heartwarming movies—there might have been some dust in the air, okay, because even Bella looked misty-eyed. Rudolf nuzzled his humans with the vigor of a thousand wagging tails.

That night, I learned the true Christmas spirit. It isn’t about the gingerbread (totally got one for Rudolf, though), but about pawing forward the kindness we’re shown every day.

And that, my dear friend, is how this cheeky, pseudo-raccoon dog helped guide a lost Christmas Shepherd back to his family on a snowy evening in Pawsburgh. Talk about barking the miracle, huh?

The End.