Hey, it’s your princely pup Broady here! Just had a tail-wagging, tinsel-twirling Christmas Eve adventure where I turned from toy to prince and danced with Annie under a moonlit waterfall! Remember, with a sprinkle of magic and a dash of dream, even a stuffed bulldog can lead a fairytale waltz. Catch you when the clock strikes adventure again. Keep those paws dreamy, Annie. 🐾✨ – Sir Broadsalot

Listen to the story here

Oh, hey there, I suppose you’re expecting something heartwarming and goofy, in true Mindy Kaling fashion, right? Okay, let’s plunge into it like a puppy diving snout-first into a birthday cake.

So, it’s Christmas Eve, and the human world is decked out in so much glitter and tinsel, you’d think they stole the stars from the night sky. My usual evening involves diligently claiming my spot under the willow tree, but not tonight, no siree. I’m Broady, remember? On this eve, I’m no ordinary English bulldog; I’m the Nutcracker Pup and I’ve got to tell you about the night I turned into a prince.

It all starts with Annie. She’s the girl with a laugh like tinkling bells and two left feet that somehow dance gracefully when no one’s watching. Her favorite toy, a stuffed version of yours truly, sat poised on her shelf, an ever-present sentinel for her dreams and secrets.

Now, don’t ask me how magic works – I’m more about the when and the where. And on this night, the magic was in overdrive, swirling around us like a blizzard made of wishes. As the clock chimed its way to midnight, something sparkled in the air, and I, Broady the Toy, I began to change.

The transformation must have tickled because I couldn’t help my bulldog chuckle as I felt my seams stretch and my cotton innards do some spectacular gymnastics. I was growing, shifting, becoming the dashing prince Annie once declared I would be during one of her tea parties.

With a poof that would put Pawsburgh’s finest magicians to shame, I stood before her – all flesh, fur, tail wags, and that signature bulldog charm.

“Pawsome to meet you, Princess,” I said, because honestly, why waste time on boring greetings?

Annie’s eyes sparkled like I had just turned into a bacon-scented rainbow. Without missing a beat, she took my paw, and we waltzed over to Harrier Harbor, where the water shimmered under the moonlight as if the stars had come for a dip.

We danced beneath Spaniel Springs, the waterfalls singing a tune that only true believers could hear, and we laughed as her dress mimicked the colors of my brindle fur.

Newfoundland Nook greeted us with open paws, a quiet cove where stories nestled in every nook and cranny. “Tell me everything,” Annie whispered as we sat, and I told her of Pawsburgh’s wonders, like how I devoured a seven-course meal at Canine Cafe, each dish more exquisite than the last, and none containing that dreaded cucumber!

I spoke of late-night capers at The Dapper Dog Salon, where we pups would try on bow ties and top hats, twirling in front of the mirror with the elegance of true aristodogs.

Annie giggled at the image of me in a hat, and I couldn’t help but brag about my skills in fashion, thanks to Canine Couture Clothing. Admitted, I preferred my fur coat over any cashmere sweater, but some dogs just gotta have style!

As the dawn approached with the promise to be a bit of a party pooper, I heard the faint bells from Annie’s clock. It was almost time to transform back into the familiar stuffed toy, my cotton throne on her shelf.

“I’ll always remember,” Annie said as if she could hear my unspoken thoughts.

And with that, we shared one last dance, a dance that could teach the sugarplums a thing or two. As Pawsburgh faded away and my princely limbs began to felt and thread again, I knew this was the kind of story that would make even the grinchiest tail wag with joy.

So, until the next enchantment, this is Broady, signing off. Keep dreaming, dear friends. Keep dreaming.

The End.