Hey Ellie,

Just another day reigning over Pawsburgh with my paw of justice, negotiating treaties with the Schnauzers, and keeping our streets savory with gourmet meats. Maintaining the queenly façade for your peace of mind. Nessi’s got the city under her vigilant watch. PS: Truffle opportunities on the horizon!

Paw Regards,
Her Royal Highness Nessi 🐾

The morning sun glazed the roofs of Pawsburgh like a baker’s egg wash upon Pawfect Pastries’ notorious croissants. I stretched before stepping outside my ivy-curtained sanctuary. The humans all believed we lounged lazily until their return, but Pawsburgh was our kingdom, with its untold wonders to explore.

I paced through Hound Heights, my sleek black coat glinting in the light, a nod from the patrolling Sheepdog, I returned with a respectful brush of my tail. Affairs at Pointer Pier awaited my pawprint, and only a composed trot betrayed my anticipation.

Swaggering into Dachshund’s Deli, I sniffed approvingly at the rich aromas—never a trace of those drab dog biscuits Ellie believes I tolerate. I exchanged a glance with Toby who was rounding up his usual Reuben. “Keep your friends close, and your enemy’s claim checks closer, huh?” I smirked, knowing Toby’s penchant for burying ‘borrowed’ treasures from The Groom Room next door.

A siren wail split the air. Thunder. My heart clenched, yet the flutter in my guts wasn’t just fear; it was a signal. I dipped into the adjacent alley, darting past The Canine Café, where steam fogged up the windows, concealing whispered conspiracies over cappuccinos.

Setter Shore was where it all played out. The Schnauzers wagged their tails in mock salute as I approached. “Nessi,” the eldest greeted, his voice rough like gravel. The Schnauzers – Pawsburgh’s own little racketeers – had their paws dipped in every shady deal along the shore.

I met their leader’s cloudy gaze. “Business or pleasure?” I quipped with a tilt of my head, letting the wisdom in my eyes do the talking.

“Both, Nessi. Always both,” he growled, his mustachioed lip curling around the words. Our dealings were based on respect—the respect that comes when the thunder of power is worse than that in the sky.

A tumultuous wave swelled, lapping at the dock. “Storm’s coming,” I murmured, a prophetic undertone not lost upon my audience.

With a low woof, our terms were settled. The Schnauzers would maintain their ‘ventures’ in fishing tackle—of course, only the most innocuous supplies—while the Barking Boutique’s smart new collars remained undisturbed. My cut? A stash of imported meats for Dachshund’s Deli. I couldn’t let Ellie know I’d grown tired of chicken thighs.

As I turned to leave, the Schnauzer patriarch leaned in. “Your human, Ellie… She treats you well?”

My ears perked up. “Like a queen,” I asserted. That was non-negotiable.

Approaching Puppy Plate, a beagle—Toby’s latest wagering buddy—sidled up with a tip. Seems rare truffles had been found behind Pawfect Pastries. The Chef, a robust Saint Bernard, was desperate to keep it hush-hush. I toyed with the plush squirrel in my mouth (a habit when plotting) and nodded once.

I chalked up this truffle hunt as tomorrow’s escapade, just as the sky flickered again. Better head back before the downpour.

I dashed homeward through the rain, bracing for the last sprint when, lo and behold, the wise old cat, perched on her windowsill, meowed sympathetically.

Reaching home, dried off and nestled in my nook, Ellie would be none the wiser.

Another day, another display of moxie and unbridled courage. I, Nessi, the pit bull with a heart of gold and nerves of steel, ruled over Pawsburgh with a gentle but firm paw; balancing my life as a pet with the intricate web of alliances and pleasures that came with it.

Tomorrow, like any day, would present its adventures and troubles, but for now, I’d let Ellie think she was the one taking care of me.

The End.