Hey buddy, it’s your four-legged friend Sambo here! Just wanted to say thanks for the adventures—we’ve really ruffled some feathers & spread a lot of cheer! From missing the spark without you to finding my true role as Pawsburgh’s tail-waggin’ hero with a heart. Here’s to being the light in the pack & making every moment count. Woof ya later! 🐾 – Sammy

Listen to the story here

Alright, sit, stay, and lend me your floppy ears. It’s old Sambo here, and I’ve got a yarn to spin that’ll curl your tail with delight.

‘Twas the night before Christmas, but something was missing – the usual spark that lit up my spirit like a well-chewed tennis ball under the summer sun. The human world was hushed, carpets of snow muffling the usual hustle and bustle, my owner away visiting family, and left me filled with a sense that something grand was lost in the drift.

So there I was, trotting down Pearl Papillon Promenade, decked out in a festive scarf, more out of obligation than cheer. Without my human, even the colorful display at The Fetching Feline Pet Emporium couldn’t get a wag out of me.

“Sambo, you look like you’ve misplaced your last bone,” Max’s voice rumbled behind, his years showing more in wisdom than in stride.

Bella, zestier than a slice of lemon, added, “We’re going to Pawprint Pizzeria to raise some cheer. Pizza crusts, Sambo! You in or out?”

“Out,” I sighed, feeling as flat as a deflated ball. “Something’s amiss, pals.”

They gave each other a look, shrugged, and trotted off, their barks fading into the silent night.

Now, Pawsburgh is a bark of a place, where tales wag as often as tails, but on that eve, I felt hidden in shadow. Until, that is, a soft glow approached – an elegant Collie with a grace that tamed even the wildest of terriers.

“Sambo,” she called with a voice like warm milk, “I’m Angelica, guardian of wayward paws. I see trouble sits on your shoulders like an unwanted sweater.”

“How’d you know?” I asked, ear cocked, tail uncurled.

She grinned. “Let’s have a gander, shall we?”

And just like that, we were whisked like flakes in the wind, peering into my recent yesterdays. We watched as I knocked sorrow from my owner with the whump of my hearty tail, witnessed the joy as I fetched the ball until the stars envied its flight.

We saw me with my chums—Max telling tall-tales by Barking BBQ’s smoker, while Bella out-barked the clang of Cavalier Cove’s jolly bells. Even my sock capers drew laughter more than scowls.

“Blimey,” I muttered, “I didn’t know I cast such a bright shadow.”

“You do, Sambo,” Angelica assured, “and Pawsburgh is all the brighter for it.”

We were back on the promenade. I felt lighter, as though my paws were laced with the fluff of clouds.

“Thank you, Angelica,” I said, my heart swelling. “Seems like I’ve got quite the pack to get back to!”

With a flash and a shimmer, she was gone, leaving me alone under the glow of the street lamps.

Now, here’s the real twist in the tale. I bounded back with a new purpose, to Pawprint Pizzeria no less, where they were howling ‘Jingle Barks’ off-key.

“Bella! Max!” I hollered. “I reckon I’ve found that bone I misplaced!”

Their laughter rang out, the slice of pizza crust shared, and as we sat there amidst the cheer, I realized the best of adventures, were the ones we’d shared this year.

So remember this, dear reader, when shadows fall as thick as winter’s sleet: even in the absence of light, we’re a beacon in the tales we leave at others’ feet. It was indeed, a Wonderful Bark.

The End.