Hey Mom!

Just wanted you to know that your adventurous Bellie has been up to her whiskers in hijinks in Pawsburgh! Ran for top dog among the furry elite and, would you believe it, I won the crown! I wooed them with wit and promised a reign of belly rubs and boundless biscuits. Coming home with my tail held high as Pawsburgh’s newest and furriest monarch. Can’t wait to share the kibble and cuddles!

Royally yours,
Bella Mae 🐾👑

At the first stroke of the sun’s dalliance with the horizon, whilst my beloved human still lay in slumber’s tender embrace, I, Bella Mae of the pied fur and perky ears, made my clandestine escape to the clandestine haven of Pawsburgh. Now, let not your spirit be vexed by such nocturnal flights; for the town shimmering beyond the ken of humans is that of dogs, and dogs alone.

Once upon the hallowed grounds of Affenpinscher Avenue, with each storefront agleam in the early light, did I set my paws with purpose. A crown lay hidden in the fabled town; not one of gold, per se, but of legacy and influence. Each year, the canine multitude of Pawsburgh elected their sovereign, their four-pawed parade of preeminence that would grace posters and murals, and I, with a bold heart and bouncing ball at my side, was amongst the spirited contestants.

A quick scamper down to Ruby Rottweiler Ridge, where pumpkins grinned on porches and the leaves rustled like the silk of gowns, brought me into view of Dempsey, faithful companion in all my plots and pleasures. “Without you, Dempsey,” said I in jocular greeting, “my campaign would be as bereft as a dog without a bone.”

“Ah, Bella Mae, your jests tickle my fancy as a feather bed does a feline,” quoth Dempsey, his wheaten fur aglow with dawn’s touch. “But pray, before you seize your crown, might we feast at Tail-Twitching Treats?”

Surely, wise counsel it was, for the tumult ahead would glean much from the strength of my sinews. Table service in Pawsburgh, ’tis needless to say, is a savory tale of courtesy and camaraderie. With watermelon slices teasing my palate and Dempsey’s brisk tail narrating his own delight, we fortified our bellies for the fray ahead.

The course to royal ascent did wind through public favor, and in Pawsburgh, ’tis well noted, such favor is won in whim and charm. At Howling Husky Hardware I acquired a rope of such caliber it could bind the city gates. “For the tug-of-war tenament!” exclaimed I, eyes agleam with tactics and tussles.

“Don’t forget, Bella Mae: ’tis not strength alone that crowns the head,” Dempsey sermonized, following me to Doggy Depot. “In Pawsburgh, the crowned head must shimmer with wisdom and wag.”

This, I reflected, striding with Dempsey to the heart of town, where the solemn meeting of the council was to commence. The dogs of note had gathered, unanimous in their gravity, their fur of every dye, and genus beyond the garden variety.

And so, with Dempsey at my side, I stood forth with pride as one of the council spoke, “Who amongst you seeks the mantle this year?”

‘Tis then I addressed the assembly in the fashion of Twain, with a speech in earnest jest that would frame my stance:

“Fellow paws of Pawsburgh, it be I, Bella Mae, whose heart beats not a selfish rhythm. If the crown fits my brow, let it be as a beacon of frolic and feast, where every tail may wag in unity and every bark ring in honest cheer!”

A raucous bark of approval arose, and as the council deliberated, joyous and jestful as they were, it seemed the canine appetite for drama and levity had found in my candidacy its spice and savor. No sooner had the sun kissed noon did the word pass among the populous – Bella Mae would wear the crown!

Thus, with mirth and majesty intertwined, as is the way in Pawsburgh’s purview, I embarked upon a year of benevolence and treats, my reign assured by friendship and paw prints across the heart of every hound. And in the murmur of twilight, when the adventures of the day folded themselves into the quilt of the night, I’d return to my home, a queen in her own right, her heart as full as her flesh was pied.

The End.