Hey Mom 🐾,

Just a quick bark – I mean update! I turned our wardrobe into a portal (hush-hush, human magic) and have been the tail-wagging hero of a place called Pawsburgh! It’s a pup’s paradise; no leashes, endless treats, and adventures that’d ruffle your fur. Met a witch who hides goodies – such a pawsome sniff-and-seek! Can’t wait to tell you every ‘tail’. Missing your cuddles!

Woofs and wags,
Chunk Doo 🐶✨

There’s a certain wardrobe in our humble abode, tucked away in a room that smells faintly of lavender and nostalgia. It stands unassuming, its wooden panels buffed to a warm shine by countless fingers. Yet this wardrobe, dear friends, harbors a secret nestled within its aged frame—a portal to Pawsburgh, where our kind plays beneath the whispers of destiny. A town, I might add, free of leashes and bursting with opportunity for adventure.

I must tell you of one such exploit, one that would make even the most dignified of tails wag with anticipation.

It all started on a day when ‘Mom,’ saintly guardian that she is, departed for her daytime rituals beyond our threshold. The moment the door clicked shut, abandoning me to solitude, my heart plummeted. But then I remembered the wardrobe.

Approaching with a practiced air of nonchalance, I nudged open its door, the scents of Spaniel Springs already tickling my nostrils. Excitement bubbled within me with each impending step. Onward I wandered, until the linen smell of shirts and woollen whisperings of winter sweaters gave way to the tang of ocean breeze and the lull of Setter Shore.

Pawsburgh awaited, the land where dreams take shape in springy steps and the laws of man are lovingly set aside.

I bounded towards Bulldog’s BBQ, where the grills sizzled with promises of sumptuous repast. The rich aroma of delicacies dangled in the air, flirting with my senses—a tease not unlike the squawks of my dear squeaky snake back home. Yet the doting proprietors knew my penchant for pizza layered with chicken so lovingly littered atop—truly, a morsel of the gods.

Belly filled and with a burp tucked discreetly away, I sauntered the streets waving my hellos to familiar faces. Saluki Sands invited me with its promise of spirited play, a siren call for one such as me, Chunk, purveyor of revelry and chaser of shadows.

But before I could partake of its wonders, my gaze caught a peculiar sight—a glint of mischief marking a doorway tucked away between The Wagging Tail Bookstore and The Pampered Pooch Salon. ‘The Doggo, the Witch, and the Wardrobe,’ proclaimed the sign—a curious name, laced with the charm of the nonsensical.

A jingle of the bell and I stepped inside. Rows upon rows of wardrobes, each a gateway to some distant, frolic-filled land, awaited. The air hummed with enchantment, and it seemed only polite to inquire within.

A voice, sweet and creaky like the pages of an old tome, answered my rumbles of curiosity.

“This one, dear Chunk, leads to a place even the bravest whisker has scarce explored,” said the keeper, a wise old Maltese with spectacles perched precariously on her snout.

I might’ve hesitated, but that’s not in my nature. I’m Chunk, after all—explorer supreme! With the blessing of the keeper, whose name I learned was Dot (no relation to Dottie, my dear spotted pal), I poked my snout through the coats.

And so, there I embarked, dear readers, into a realm untold, where trees vaulted skyward, whispers of magic tingled at the fringes. There was a rumor of a witch, good-natured yet prone to hiding treats in the oddest of places, and I, Chunk, would face such trials with a heart stout and limbs ready for the scampering of a lifetime.

But those tales, those wondrous accounts of dogged bravery, are for another day, another nap dreamed away in a sunbeam.

For now, suffice it to say, with my return to reality’s firm embrace, that Pawsburgh lives on, a haven within a wardrobe waiting patiently for the patter of paws.

And as I rest here, recanting the tale to whispered walls that long for ‘Mom’s’ return, I dream of what tomorrow holds, of what lies beyond the wooden sentinel standing sentinel amidst the lavender room. For as long as there are wardrobes, Chunk shall roam free—and Pawsburgh shall remain the heart of every dog’s grand tale.

The End.