Hey hooman 🐾, your generosity has ruffled Pawsburgh’s whiskers! I’ve caught the giving bug too & shared some tail-waggin’ tales over Woof Waffles. Our merriment’s spreadin’ like wildfire. Let’s keep up the jolly good spirit! 🎄🐶 – Lexi (the bone-hoarding pup turned Santa Paws)

Listen to the story here

In the twinkling twilight of a crisp winter’s eve, I find myself tucked into a corner of Chihuahua’s Chimichangas, sipping a stealthily acquired lap of spiced broth. The joint is abuzz with the festive fervor unique to Pawsburgh, with pups donning garlands and twinkly attire that would make the most garish of Christmas trees feel understated.

I whisper to the beagle philosopher nestled on the cushion beside me. “You know,” I confide, “back on Earth, it’s that time of year when humans get all starry-eyed and overdosed on sentimentality. Mine’s the same – gets giddy with goodwill, he does. Wants to help every underdog, even those mangy ones on Fifth and Flea.”

The beagle raises a brow, then we’re distracted by the arrival of a bulldog bearing a tray of Woof Waffles so golden they make the streetlamps outside seem dim. He thumps the platter down, dusting the table with powdered sugar that flutters like the first winter’s snow.

“It’s a transformation of sorts,” I muse between mouthfuls. “Normally, he’s a bit of a hoarder—hides bones as if they were precious metals. But come the holidays, and he’s giving ’em away like pamphlets at an obedience seminar.”

“A seasonal metamorphosis,” the beagle murmurs, eyes twinkling brighter than the festive decor. “Much needed, of course. The spirit of giving is a warm blanket on the coldest of nights.”

Leaving the eatery with my belly warm and my heart warmer, we stroll along Hound Heights, the moon casting a glow on the cobblestones, each one carved with tales of canine conquests and capers. A conversation bubbles forth about our human counterparts – how their holiday glee seeps into our very bones, filling our world with a magic that outshines even Pawsburgh’s daily enchantments.

As we reach Opal Pomeranian Park, the squeal of breaks and a colorful cascade of barking breaks the placid night. It’s Happy Hounds Dog Walking’s latest convoy – pups told tales of their humans’ holiday transformations.

There’s a greyhound there, slender as a winter sapling, claiming her mistress gave away old tennis balls to every pooch in the neighborhood. The poodle adds that her human baked a mountain of dog biscuits for the town’s shelter. The tales weave a tapestry of generosity, painting vivid images of hearts unfurling like flowers to the sun’s first kiss on spring’s dew.

As the tales dwindle and the earth begins to frost beneath our paws, I nuzzle into a dreamy smile. “Makes you think, doesn’t it?” I say to no one in particular. “Our human’s joy trickles down to us – their zest for giving infuses Pawsburgh, turning us into better beasties.”

The beagle tilts his head, deep in thought, the tabby simply purrs – an admission of, if not agreement, then at least presence. And that’s saying something.

The rustle of my human’s favorite hedgehog toy in my pocket reminds me of the invincible love that bonds us – through worlds and wonders, through transformation and time.

And as my friends and I settle in a huddle beneath the grand fir in Amber Akita Alley, I’m pondering the true essence of this season. I suppose it’s not just the chew toys and chicken treats that make it special – it’s the spirit of transformation, the joy of giving, the kind-heartedness that my human displays, which truly defines the warmth of this wintry wonderland.

In Pawsburgh or on Earth, the magic of the holiday season whispers the same message to all merry souls, whether draped in fur or wrapped in skin: give generously, love fiercely, and treasure every joyous, jubilant jingle.

The End.