Hey human, 🐾

Just a quick pawdate – last night in Pawsburgh was epic. Emerged as the stealthy hero (and accidental clown) of the night. Suffered a surprise bath, got robbed of my chicken dinner, incidentally bedecked Benny with regal chicken bone jewelry, and nearly destroyed a camera with a sneeze-turned-cannonball. Wrapped it all up with a mountaintop treat session and a silent stealthy return at dawn. Just your typical Thursday. 🌕🍗💦

Catch you after my morning nap!
– The Night Whisperer, a.k.a. Shadow

The rustle of the Harrisons’ snores was my cue. I nudged open the slightly ajar window with a nudge of my snout — an art I’d perfected over countless nights. A leap of faith and I was enveloped by the night’s embrace, heading towards Pawsburgh.

“Shadow, old boy! Late as always?” Benny barked from the shadows of Pearl Papillon Promenade.

“Fashionably so, Benny,” I replied with a wag, joining him on the moonlit pathway. But, oh, the fates had already cast their dice for a night of mishaps.

Our destination? Mutt Munchies. En route, I was regaling Benny with my latest escapade of outsmarting a particularly flirtatious leaf, when suddenly, a feline shape blocked our path. Or so I thought. Lunging forward, I soon realized that not all shadows are made equal — and certainly not all are cats. A startled Luna leaped away, causing me to barrel into Benny, who, in turn, plummeted into a hitherto unseen fountain that, I swear, popped up out of nowhere.

“Blasted H2O ambush!” Benny sputtered, shaking his ears.

Dry and relatively dignified, we finally made it to Mutt Munchies, only to witness Max and Molly devouring a wrongly delivered chicken feast — my chicken feast! Oh, how my stomach betrayed my grace, growling louder than any tempestuous thundercloud.

I voiced my dismay, “That’s my savory bliss you’re gorging on!”

In their enthusiasm, the twins twirled towards me, chicken bones flying forth like misfired arrows, one lodging itself regally in Benny’s curly tail.

“Whoops…” Molly muttered, guilt washing over her dachshund features.

Benny, still sopping wet, now also adorned with a chicken bone scepter, declared, “I am Benny the Brave, Knight of the Bone!”

The room erupted in howls of laughter, though perhaps no one laughed harder than the twins, their eyes twinkling with delight and devilry.

Next, the plan was to capture the memories at Best in Show Photography. Luna, regal in her recovery and I, flanked the setting with what I’d argue was quiet dignity. Alas, fate, that capricious trickster, had further plans. As the flash popped, Benny sneezed spectacularly, launching the chicken bone from his tail like a canon into the camera.

Flash ruined, tail freed; Benny proclaimed, “Who knew I had such a talent for photography?”

We retreated, a little dampened, a little less full, but spirits rising like the fundaments in a winning game of bridge. A debate started about who should foot the bill for the camera mishap. As words volleyed back and forth, we suddenly realized we were one voice short.

“Where’s Shadow?” Luna’s voice danced lightly through the air, a note of concern weaved in.

With the grace of a shadow, I appeared from behind a backdrop, where I had mistakenly become part of the scenery.

Before us loomed Hound Heights, its silhouette against the night sky suggesting it as the perfect spot for quiet reflection or, dare I say, an apology picnic for my friends.

With the moon high and apologies accepted, we settled on the peak, sharing Tail-Twitching Treats and stories slightly exaggerated — as dog tales often are.

As dawn approached, and the human world beckoned us back, we vowed to never speak of the night’s shenanigans — save for every time we got together and needed a rapturous belly laugh.

Back under the window, I readied myself for my return. The promise of the Harrisons’ adoring reunion had my tail already painting invisible circles of joy. Yes, I am Shadow, purveyor of chaos and comedy in equal measure.

I leaped back into my other world, just as the first hint of Harrison consciousness stirred. My quiet re-entry marked the end of another Pawsburgh escapade, my black coat glistening a little more mischievously under the morning’s touch.

The End.