Hey Jamie,

Just wanted to give you a tail wag of an update – I’ve been busy being the hero Pawsburg deserves, saving my plushie from the canine clutches of mischief. Between sniffs of adventure at the Cafe and zoomies around the Springs, I outwitted Max, dined under the stars, and kept the legend of the Tornado spinning! 🌪️ Sweet dreams of open fields; I’ve got the night watch. Catch ya after my bath bubbles pop!

Dream of steak,
Texas Tornado 🐾

I reckon there’s not a dog in Pawsburg that doesn’t twitch an ear when they hear of the Texas Tornado. Yes, that’s me, full of gale-force gusto. But, let’s paws a moment and whiff the wind of my latest caper that whiskered me through the cobblestones and enchanted alleys of our own magical mutt metropolis.

It was a day when Pawsburg shimmered under a particularly spellbinding sun, making the Quartz Qimmiq Quarter glisten like a doggy diamond. Setting paw out of the house, whilst Jamie’s guitar hummed a lonesome tune, I had a twitch in my tail, a spring in my step, and the relentless itch for venture under my collar.

Hightailing it first to Canine Cafe I snuffled up a mighty fine beef stew that would leave my veggie nemesis cowering. I’m telling you, one lick and my tongue was doing the two-step! Now, fully fueled, I sauntered down to Spaniel Springs. Ah, the scent of a fresh rain lingering on the luscious green, my paws all but danced over the wet earth chasing spectral squirrels.

But, by the tail of Old Yeller, if my favourite hedgehog plushie wasn’t acting the scoundrel once more! As I raced the wind for sport, I noticed its mischievous absence. “That little squeaker!” I muttered, though my bark held a grin. A game was afoot!

I fetched up at The Pooch Playhouse, where toys were the trade, and escape artists met their match. “Seen hedgey?” I asked Penny the Poodle, who managed the place. She just gave me a look that could curdle cream, and I knew my quest must go on.

Off to Amber Akita Alley, in a whirl of blue and black fur, I arrived at Best in Show Photography. Maybe, just maybe, my crafty companion had been immortalized in a snapshot.

“Looking for this?” a sly voice asked. There before me was Max, that lean Greyhound, my hedgehog dangling from his jaws. “For a swift pooch, you’re a mite slow today, Texas.”

With my teeth gently gripping my reclaimed treasure, I woofed in great jollity, “You can’t resist being part of the Texas Tornado tale, can you, old boy?” We shared a dog laugh, and the chase was on! We bolted faster than a twister over the plains, racing through Pawsburg like two legends of yore.

Finally, parched from our exploits, we came upon Setter’s Steakhouse. Not a place I’d usually sniff at, but then, can a chap turn down a juicy steak?

The evening stars twinkled as we trotted homeward, tails wagging, the hedgehog secure under my vigilant guard. Pawsburg’s magic wrapped around us like a warm blanket, and—as I’m a dog if I’m not honest—even the veggies in my bowl seemed a tad less offensive that eve.

And now, here I sit under the twinkle of Pawsburg’s night sky, Jamie none the wiser to the day’s escapades. She dreams of cattle and wide-open spaces while I, the Tornado, dream of hedgehogs and races.

Well, I must close this yarn as I spy a bubble bath looming on the morrow’s horizon—a stuck gate on a storm fence. But for tonight, this Tornado sleeps coiled, ever ready for the next Pawsburg whirl.

The End.