Hey Mom and Dad,

You’ll never believe it—I played detective in Pawsburgh today, sniffed out an alien, and even shared some cosmic snacks with our new interstellar buddy! All hush-hush, of course. Can’t wait for snuggles and stories when you’re home. 🐾

Love,
Your own little Honey Bunches of Oats

Listen: In the quaint and mystical town of Pawsburgh, where the fire hydrants gleam like beacons of liberty for canine kind, I, Mya, found myself in the clutches of a most peculiar enigma.

It was a day like any other in Weimaraner Woods, where trees whispered secrets only dogs dare to understand, when an inexplicable aroma danced upon the breeze. My snout, magnificent in its scent-snaring capabilities, was tempted by the scent — something alien, something not quite Milk-Bone nor Blue Diamond. I was determined to unravel this aromatic mystery, yes, with the resolve of those valiant terriers from ancient lore.

Though the city buzz had never been my cup of tea, and metropolitan scents confused rather than delighted, I knew one could not turn away from a Pawsburgh mystery. Not even with the lure of Husky’s Hotcakes or the wafting fragrance of fresh bread from Barker’s Bakery.

Plunging into the thicket, I left the comfort of Schnauzer Street, my robust legs carrying me with a purposeful trot. Melanie would be proud, if not slightly amused, that her four-legged sleuth was sniffing out secrets while she was out conquering the human version of jungles — offices, she called them.

“There’s an unfamiliar scent,” I shared with Bella and Misty, my Beagle and Chihuahua cohorts who had joined the chase. “It’s almost citrusy, obfuscated by the stench of… dare I say, extraterrestrial excrement?” Bella cocked her head, Misty raised an eyebrow; I was not given to flights of fancy.

Remembering our Pawsburgh pact of secrecy, each with her nose to the ground, we whisked through Newfoundland Nook, dodging Happy Hounds Dog Walking enthusiasts. Our investigation led us to the back alley of The Barking Boutique, where glamourous doggy wigs hung like the scalps of vanquished foes.

“That’s where it’s strongest!” I barked. The scent was now mixed with a sound, a curious clicking, not unlike the clacking of a hedgehog toy — my beloved spiky treasures.

There, behind the boutique, we found it; an object, spherical, pulsing with iridescent light. And there, nervously tapping a three-toed foot, was an entity — decidedly not dog. Its snout was short, its ears pointed, eyes like saucers, gazing at us with an interstellar lostness.

“What in the name of Best in Show Photography is that?” muttered Bella, as Misty whimpered with conspiracy theories waiting to burst from her tiny form.

Crafting my most diplomatic growl, I approached. The creature yapped in a melodic series of high-pitched whimpers and, with a wave of its paw, the strange object opened. Inside lay an array of cosmic Milk-Bones, glimmering like stardust. Ah, the source.

This was no threat, I realized, but a visitor, marooned far from its own galactic backyard. It offered us these space treats with a tentative wag of its tail, an offering, a plea.

We ate, because that’s what dogs do — bravely taste-test the unknown for all of dogkind. The treats were delightful, making our tails wag at lightspeed.

With twilight approaching, I knew we must return to our respective abodes. As Melanie would soon be home, I pondered how to articulate the day’s explorations.

How do you explain to a human that you’ve made contact with a benign extraterrestrial being? How do you convey that Pawsburgh had a visitor from the stars who simply needed a few earthly friends to help it find its way back?

You don’t.

You give the sort of bark reserved for the extraordinary, the unexplainable, and you let them believe it’s just because you missed them. Then, you cuddle up, carrying the secret of the space visitor in your heart, where it will remain safe — as all the most marvelous secrets do.

So it goes.

The End.