Hey Mom,

Another wild night in Pawsburgh – saved a ton of fluffy patients at PawsVet, dodged the cone of shame, and resisted Pom’s Pies. My secret life as Dr. Rusty McScruff is a tail-wagging rush! Shh, don’t tell the humans. 😉

Catch you after my beauty sleep,
Rusty 🐾

The moment I see the sun sink below the backyard fence, I know it’s time. I’ve been pretending to snooze, all curled up on the couch, but my human mom is onto me. She thinks I don’t know about Pawsburgh, tossing and turning on purpose. Clever, eh? And now, humans asleep, the clock’s tick is my starter pistol.

Affenpinscher Avenue looms large as I trot towards Fetch! Toys and Treats. I sniff, tail wagging a greeting to the dim streetlights that never seem to sleep. The Blue Moon is full, the night is alive with stars that twinkle like the glint in my eye when I spy a treat.

Then bam! Suddenly we’re in an episode of ‘Bark’s Anatomy.’ There I am, Rusty McScruff—the hot-shot terrier with a knack for saving stuffed toys. I can hear Mindy Kaling in my ear, narrating my fabulous, furry life. “Power through, Rusty, power through.”

Ace is there, my Shepherd buddy, older than the hills but sharper than the newest scalpel in the joint. “E.R’s full tonight,” he warns with a nudge, his gaze sagacious. I wag approval. Time to save those fluff-filled lives! We’ve got a squeaker in distress, people! This is not a drill!

Practice is the backbone to perfection, and here at PawsVet, I’m a pro. A swift assessment—a K9’s got a chewed-up tail, and over there, a poodle in a panic. She might need a sedative, or maybe just a good ear scratch. Trust me, I’m a doctor. Sort of.

The rush, the chaos, and drama—it’s what we live for. And as the conveyor belt of cases rolls in, I’m in my element. And then she comes through. A cocker spaniel, and oh—oh no! Not the cone of shame! I swear, if I had a nickel for every time a cone turned a dignified dog into a resentful satellite dish.

I glance at Setter’s Steakhouse, contemplating if burger theft is grounds for veterinary suspension. Nope, Rusty, focus! I hear Mindy’s perky voice scold in my head. Eyes on the prize.

A quick nip to Whippet Wraps, maybe? Pom’s Pies? The drool-worthy scent hits me, a cruel reminder that in Pawsburgh, even the creamiest of pies must wait. There are toys to save, after all. A signature swish of my stethoscope, and I’m all professional again.

Oh, and here comes the soundtrack I never knew I needed, the little beeps of heart monitors, the soft whoosh of the respirator puffing life back into Mr. Squeakers. We’re all George Clooney’s in our mind, except less… human-y. And more… doggo-y, ya know?

Companions come and go, but true friendships, like the one I have with Ace, they’re rarer than a clean lab coat in this place. He’s the Cristina to my Meredith, my veterinary voice of reason. “Another long shift, huh?” Ace queries, furrowed brow practically knitted.

“Piece of cake,” I wag back, before a yawn betrays my cool. Faintly aware of Earth’s dawn approaching, Pawsburgh’s magic grows thin. I have to hurry.

Leaping through the Pawsburgh portal, I land back on my living-room throne, disguise intact. Mom’s none the wiser as she stirs. Ace winks from the shadows, the bond of our secret safe for another night. My eyes flutter shut, off-duty for the next adventure.

See you tomorrow, Pawsburgh. Keep those tails wagging.

The End.