Hey there!

Just a quick paw-sitively update from Pawsburgh: I’m leading the pack in this new doggo world, turning lemons into playtime, and finding treasures in the rubble. No catnaps for me – who needs humans when you’ve got eternal belly rubs, endless balls to chase, and the best furry mates a pooch could ask for? Wag on, my friend, we’re crafting our own tales and chasing dawn with every bark.

Tail wags & sniffs,
Bubbles 🐾🎾

Ever since the Great Shake-up, when the world of humans rumbled and receded like the tide, leaving only us canines to ponder the vast mystery of life without belly rubs and morning walks, Pawsburgh has become a sanctuary of sorts. It’s where we gather to share snippets of the lives we once knew and wag our tails at the new world order.

My name is Bubbles, gentle reader, and if you know me, you can vouch for the fact that I’ve never met a day that didn’t smell fascinating or a rubber ball that didn’t deserve the chase. My fur, a dappled tapestry of earthy tones, and eyes, the shade of a well-steeped tea, serve as my trademarks in these bustling streets.

The sun was making its lazy climb as I trotted out of my den. The streets of Pawsburgh were oddly quiet, but that never bothered me. I was off to meet my mates, Cooper and Sage, for a romp around Saluki Sands – one of the few places not covered in the mysterious silver dust from the Great Shake-up.

“You’re up early,” Sage remarked with a yawn as vast as his frame.

“Sleep is for cats,” I quipped, giving my ball an enthusiastic nudge with my nose.

We ambled down Lhasa Lane, where the remnants of our past lingered. The Snooty Snout Boutique’s mannequins still gazed into the void, ever the dapper dogs in their silken scarves and booties, though their human clientele had long since vanished.

Pausing at Basenji Bay, I inhaled the brine of the sea. Once vibrant with beachgoers and sun-seekers, it was now our solace, where the echoes of laughter had been replaced by the soft whoosh of the balmy breeze.

Cooper, with his stumpy stature and a humor as infectious as a case of the zoomies, laughed as my ball rolled into Pooch’s Pizzeria. “Hope they have your chicken and rice special, eh Bubbles?”

I snorted a laugh. Citrus may repel me, but flavors rich and savory were the hymns my taste buds sang. However, the pizzeria had been closed since the Shake-up, its pies now nothing more than a fragrant memory.

Seeking our own adventure, we made our way to Pup’s Parfait, where once chilled treats kept us cool during the scorch of summer. “Shame about the parfaits,” Cooper pondered, his voice trailing off wistfully.

But the day was not to be spent mired in nostalgia. When life gives you lemons, a wise dog once said, you promptly drop them because they’re citrus. Instead, we found joy in the simple pleasure of the chase and the company of friends.

The Fetching Feline Pet Emporium’s broken windows gaped like a cat’s jaw wide in a yawn. Broken aisles spilled their treasures of toys and trinkets – a stark contrast to the world we once knew.

“I heard from Cooper’s cousin’s friend’s mother-in-law that humans might come back one day,” Sage mused, his tone equal parts hope and skepticism.

“Until then,” I said, chasing my battered ball with glee, “we’ve got each other and Pawsburgh – the land of eternal belly rubs and infinite balls.”

As the day waned and the sky blushed with the hues of an artist’s last stroke, I curled up in my corner, filled with the day’s adventures. Tails will wag, balls will be chased, and with friends like mine, the hope for belly rubs remains.

In the heart of chaos, we found order. In the silence, we made our own music. Here in the aftermath, we painted our own dawn – with strokes of joy, a palette of camaraderie, and the enduring love woven into the spirit of dogkind.

The End.