Hey, pack leader! Stranded with the crew on Saluki Sands. Turns out, I’m part adventurer, part survivalist guru with a dash of motivational barker. We’re making digs, noshing on tropical not-strawberries, and I found a map. Soo, I’m basically the canine Captain Jack Sparrow now. Stay tuned for our tail-wagging homecoming! 🐾 – Cap’n Callie

“Okay, don’t panic, Callie,” I muttered to myself, the briny ocean air tickling my nostrils and ending the dizzying transport that whisked us Pawsburghians away from our human abodes to this place – Saluki Sands, an island paradise turned accidental prison. I gazed over the rolling dunes, my heart a tad heavier than when I’d buried my favorite rubber ball in Ms. Flora’s strawberry patch for safekeeping.

Georgia, the stoic Great Dane with delicate teacup manners, peered at me with her deep, soulful eyes. “Callie, was the transport spell supposed to drop us here?”

I replied with a toss of my snowy white mane, something I picked up while binge-watching heroic dogs on TV: “Definitely not, Georgia. But hey, the view’s not so bad. Except, you know, no Barker’s Bakery within sniffing distance.”

While Benny – yes, Benny the Beagle – was busy digging trenches as if he was on some sort of treasure hunt across the island, we gathered our canine wits.

“You know,” I began, tail swishing across Saluki Sands’ golden grains, “we pups pride ourselves on being adaptable. We’ve got to put on our survival collars and work together. Our humans think we just nap in sunbeams all day, but let’s show them we have the chops to, well…chop things.”

Licking the salty breeze from my lips, I pointed to the trees brimming with tropical fruits. “First off, food. No strawberries but plenty of…whatever that is.” My eyes narrowed. We would have to steer clear of the lone carrot-looking plant waving mockingly from amidst its more vibrant cousins.

Georgia, ever the calm one, suggested, “We also need shelter. I’ve seen enough reruns of ‘Lassie’ to know you start with the basics.”

Benny’s ears perked up as he bounded over a dune, barking, “Hey, I heard pet survival! I once watched a whole marathon of ‘Homeward Bound.’ I can totally do this!”

Of course, besides the movies and the accidental island stranding, there was water – so much water. The ducks back home would’ve been thrilled, but I missed my crystal lake. Not to get all Pride and Prejudice on you, but I was relieved to find Eskimo Estuary and its fresh water on the island map I stumbled upon, which looked suspiciously like a Pawsburgh postcard.

As the sun dipped into the glossy sea, painting the sky a color that I’d call ‘late-for-dinner,’ we gathered in a makeshift campsite. In the middle of our circle lay Benny’s greatest find: a slightly soggy rubber ball he unearthed, not my special one, but it would do.

I rallied the troops, or at least tried my level best. “Friends, we’ve got this. Back home we’re pampered and coiffed at The Pampered Pooch, but we’re more than just shiny coats and the latest in collar couture. We’re survivors.”

Night wrapped around us, a starry blanket just missing the moon. We exchanged stories of grand escapades in Vizsla Valley, the taste of Canine Kabobs, and the rustling whispers of our humans that lulled us to sleep.

As the moon finally climbed into view, a soft, ghostly hue over the Saluki Sands, a plan formed in my mind. A promise to lead everyone home. Tomorrow, our tails wagging and spirits high, we’d embark on an epic quest of return. But for now, we bundled closer for warmth and comfort, basking in the shared glow of camaraderie.

And, as our snuffling breaths filled the night, I remembered my rubber ball and the ducks at dawn, and I knew this was just another sunrise stroll in disguise – a grand adventure awaited.

The End.