Hey Mom n’ Dad 🐾,

Just another day in Pawsburgh: fell for a spectral Husky with a heart bigger than his ghostly howl, nearly broke up over watermelon (I know, right? 🍉😆), and snagged a date that could lead to an eternal love story. Who would’ve thought? Send my love to Melanie and tell her not to worry, her guard dog’s got a ghostly knight now. 😉

Wags and kisses,
Mya (a.k.a. Honey Bunches of Oats) 💖✨

Here’s the thing about Pawsburgh, it’s not like any other place you’ve ever heard of. It’s uncharted on the human maps, a secret destination—kind of like Atlantis but for the canine kind. Ain’t that something?

So, here I am, Mya, brawn and all, telling you about a typical, or not-so-typical day in this magical bark of the woods. Let’s just dive in, shall we?

I shook off the shackles of daily life—like when Melanie applied that God-awful flea powder—and scampered through the shimmering veil that separates Pawsburgh from the mundane. Chestnut Cocker Courtyard teemed with fur-friends, but my eyes searched for someone particular. Sirius, the spectral Husky—one glimpse of his twinkling coat, one wag of his ghostly tail and my heart did somersaults. I won’t lie, for a walking carpet of muscle, I’m quite the softie.

I sauntered over Saluki Sands, the grains warm and tingling against my pads—kinda like that time Melanie thought it’d be fun to bury me in the beach. Imagine. Me, white with brown freckles, buried in sand. The entertainment of humans knows no bounds.

But that’s beside the point. My heart raced faster than that one time I saw a squirrel—the real fluffy one, not the stiff toy kind I tote around. Sirius had mentioned a rendezvous at Bark-n-Bite Bistro. His idea, swear on my hedgehog.

“You made it,” Sirius rumbled, his voice echoing like a distant thunderclap, sending silly little shocks down my spine. The Bistro buzzed with energy, ghostly waiters floating about with trays of delectable biscuits and bones.

I pretended to survey the menu, sly-like. “Thought about standing you up. Play a little hard to get, you know?”

He grinned, a sight that’d make the coldest nights feel like lying in my spot in the backyard. “But you’re a creature of habit, Mya. Can’t resist a good romp, can you?”

I snorted, a sound Melanie said was very un-ladylike. Who cares? “Rompin’s one thing. Romancing’s another. Isn’t that right, big guy?”

We chattered away, and I learned he’d once been a sled dog, guiding humans over frost-bitten lands. Explained his cool demeanor. He was intrigued by my protective streak, saying it was a rare quality in the ethereal realms. Ha! If only he knew about the time I guarded Melanie from that terrifying plastic bag whirling in the wind.

Our date was going as smooth as the top of Pom’s Pies, until I mentioned my disdain for watermelon. Can you believe that? A dog not liking watermelon? His eyes grew wide, considering this might be a deal-breaker. Purebred nonsense if you ask me.

We decided to walk it off, heading towards Setter Shore, waves lapping with secrets of their own. The sea—a grand expanse, reminding me of the limitless skies I couldn’t reach. Chipper retrievers fetched sticks from the surf, but all I could fetch was his gaze. And fetch, I did.

“Watermelon, huh?” he said teasingly. “Guess everyone’s got their quirks.”

I nudged him gently. “Even spectral studs with hearts too big for the living world.”

Here’s where things get mushy—the stuff of canine lore. He proclaimed his eternal affection right then and there, like in the romances Melanie devoured when she thought I wasn’t looking. I’ve always had a knack for picking the right friends.

“I’ve got a confession,” Sirius said, gazing at the moon’s reflection on the water. “I might’ve been searching for someone like you for centuries.”

And woof, just like that, the playful pitbull found a love that spanned generations, beyond the simple joy of hedgehog toys and sunbathing spots. But let me tell you, in Pawsburgh, every bark has its day, and every spectral wag has its way.

The end, or rather, just another beginning.

The End.