Hey Mom, you won’t believe it—Pawsburgh’s been a riot! I made friends with some stars, literally. Met an alien while dining at Bulldog’s BBQ, and it turns out, they love fetching as much as we do. We gave them a tour, showed them the joy of a good meatball fetch, and they’ve promised to come back for the Frisbee Festival. Just another day in my pawsitively exciting life! Tail wags and kisses, Tomy 🐾✨

Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if I hadn’t discovered Pawsburgh. I mean, Earth is great—don’t get me wrong—but there’s something about strolling down Affenpinscher Avenue that really fluffs up your coat with excitement.

It was just another regular day, or night—time gets fuzzy here. The stars were out, and instead of lounging at that alluring spot by the brook, taking in duck tales and sunshine, I made a beeline to Bulldog’s BBQ. I needed a hit of that juicy chicken breast that keeps my tail on the verge of a propeller malfunction.

As I was waiting, twirling my well-worn blue Frisbee like a regular dinner plate, I caught onto this buzzing, almost like a far-off bark, but not quite. My friends, Max and Whiskers—now don’t let the ‘cat’ status fool you, Whiskers is practically canine in demeanor—also pricked up their ears in curiosity.

Now, Max is notorious around Topaz Terrier Town for concocting wild theories. “You think it’s them?” he asked, eyes wide with conspiracy.

“Who?” I played along, already regretting it.

“The aliens, Tomy! The extraterrestrials making contact!”

Whiskers rolled her eyes. She might deny it, but beneath that I-don’t-care fursona of hers, she’s got enough curiosity to fill a Mastiff’s Meals family-size bowl.

And wouldn’t you know it, as I sat there munching on my chicken, the sky above Shiba Inlet lit up with more colors than The Tail Wagger’s Tailor spring collection.

“Holy kibble,” I yapped, because what else can you say when the cosmos decides to throw you a bone?

The lights danced across the sky, circling and weaving like they were playing fetch with the stars.

“My mom used to tell me stories,” I remembered aloud, “about lights in the sky signaling friends from other places.” I never took them seriously, of course. But there it was, right in front of my muzzle.

Max bounded around, yipping in excitement, “This is it! This is it! Interstellar fetch! They’ve come for the secrets of The Pawfect Training Center!”

Whiskers, ever the skeptic, simply murmured, “Or they’ve run out of catnip on Alpha Centauri.”

Just then, a beam of light shot down, highlighting Best in Show Photography, the perfect place for a close encounter given its knack for capturing magical moments. I half expected to see a spaceship hovering, but instead, the light fizzled, and there stood a figure unlike any dog I’d ever seen. It was…

Well, that’s not my tail to wag. Suffice it to say, our extraterrestrial friend was here on a peaceful mission, curious about the universal language of play, and had chosen Pawsburgh as a beacon of joy. We showed them the wonders of Spaniel Spaghetti’s meatball fetch and the eternal joy of digging holes on the beach.

The time came, as it always does, for goodbyes. Our visitor from beyond the stars had many hydrants to sniff across the galaxy, after all. So, with heavy paws, we watched as they soared away, promising to return for the Annual Pawsburgh Frisbee Festival.

“That,” I said to Max and Whiskers, “is a fun fact I’d never want to forget.”

So, as I curl up in my favorite sun-dappled spot, Frisbee by my side, I can’t help but smile—because out there, beyond the familiar snores and comforts of earthly life, Pawsburgh remains a paw print stamped in the passport of the universe, and I, Tomy, am just another tail-teller in the dog-eared book of adventures.

The End.