Hey there! Just a quick tail-wag from ol’ Buster in Pawsburg. Levelling up on virtue, mingling with tabbies (I’m looking at you, Bella), and taste-testing at Pup’s Paella. They say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but who says the afterlife can’t be a riot of good deeds and gourmet treats? Paws crossed I’m nailing this Good Pet gig! Catch you on the flip side of the fire hydrant. 🐾 – Buster

So, like, I woke up one morning in Pawsburg, right? Okay, so not *literally* morning because time’s a human construct, and we’re in a doggone mystical city here, but whatever – it felt like morning. This is the place we scamper off to when humans are too busy adulting, and let me tell you, it is pawsitively fabulous.

Anyway, I’m doing my usual strut down Sapphire Schnauzer Street, fur perfectly coifed after a heavenly snip at The Groom Room. I’m feeling good, like really good, and that’s new for me because I was all about that belly rub life before. But here, in the doggy afterlife? I’m all about personal growth – you can teach an old dog new tricks!

My ears perked up at the sound of my buddy Charlie – the Beagle with a voice that could make a cat purr – serenading the sunflowers on Bichon Boulevard. I rolled my eyes because, come on, who does that? But secretly, I’m taking note. I gotta spread some joy of my own.

So, I decided to kick things up a notch and actually, like, be nice to cats. There I said it. Cats. Hence, my rendezvous with Bella, the tabby who could argue the fur off a cat (sorry, had to). Bella’s on about naptime again, and this time I’m listening instead of dreaming of chasing my tail.

“Napping is an art,” Bella insisted, sprawled lazily in the sun by Rottweiler Ridge.

“Sure,” I replied, tongue lolling in agreement. “Because who doesn’t enjoy a good snooze?” See, personal growth.

My next stop was Pup’s Paella, because a dog’s gotta eat, and I’m all about that gourmet life now. I sauntered up to the counter, where they already knew my usual – no peanut butter today, thanks (who am I?). Instead, I lapped up the gourmet chicken bits like I was born to be a food critic.

“Buster, right?” the sheepdog chef asked. “Heard you’ve been on your best behavior lately.”

I wagged my tail, modestly of course, and replied, “Just trying out this new thing called being virtuous. I hear it’s all the rage in the human afterlife.” Cue the laughter, we’re big fans of sitcoms, too, you know?

The rest of the day was a blur of fetching (I’m actually letting others fetch now – altruism, babe!), sharing my chew toys (even though they’re obviously all the best), and spreading cheer like I’m Santa Paws. It was exhausting and weird but in the best, floofy way.

As the not-really-sun set on Pawsburg (because, remember, time is all wonky here), I settled down on a cloud by Whispering Willows. Reflecting on my day, I thought, “Maybe I *am* getting the hang of this ‘Good Pet’ gig.”

It’s not all tail wags and ear scratches, trying to improve your…uh, after-bark behavior. It’s super confusing, too. Like, how many good deeds equal one sneaked sip of toilet water? Or what’s the exchange rate on not barking at the mailman?

But, you know, I think the real treat here (and I’m a connoisseur of treats) is figuring out that maybe the “Good Place” isn’t a place, but like, a state of mind. Deep, right?

So that’s me, Buster, living my best afterlife with my pals, always looking for ways to be better, even if I slip up and chase my tail from time to time. Because hey, even in the afterlife, a corgi’s gotta have some fun, am I right?

The End.

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