Hey Dad,

You’ll never believe it – I sniffed out a time-traveling adventure and dined with Cleopatra herself! Cats, pyramids, and a feast fit for a Pharaoh’s pup, it was all there. Back now, napping under my oak tree like it was all a dream. Maybe it’s all in a day’s work for Trixie the Time-Traveling Terrier. 🐾🕰

– Trixie

Ever hear about the time I wound up having dinner with Cleopatra, all thanks to a dust-up at the Puppy Patisserie? Oh, you haven’t? Well, dear friend, prepare for a tale most fetching.

It all started one bright morning beneath my beloved oak tree, where the shadows played like mischievous pups on summer vacation. My Jack Russell cohorts, Sally and Bodhi, had already set the agenda for the day with a single bark: adventure.

With my beloved squeaky toy clenched firmly between my teeth, I trotted down to Pearl Papillon Promenade, past the Doggie Daycare where the young pups yipped away. Pausing only briefly to admire the latest snazzy bandanas at The Dapper Dog Salon, I made a beeline for my favorite haunt, the Puppy Patisserie. The scent of oven-warm treats was as bewitching as the siren’s song.

Entering, the bell above the door announced my arrival like a herald, yet the pastries weren’t what snagged my attention. No, it was the peculiar object that sat in the middle of the room, a box as blue as a very royal leash. It hummed a tune so subtle, even the sharotest canine ears might miss it.

“Curiosity bit the bulldog,” my human often says. So, naturally, I approached the box, sniffing around its edges. Sally and Bodhi watched with tilted heads – they’re real cards, those two – as they dare not interrupt my meticulous investigation.

Suddenly, the box vibrated, and a voice, tinny and faint, beckoned from within. “Trixie, your destiny awaits!” Now, between us dogs, destiny to me always translated to ‘dinnertime,’ but this was not a summon to feast – it was a call to adventure.

Without a dog’s hesitation, inside I stepped into a domain that defied the cozy confines of the bakery. Lights blinked and little levers beckoned as if to say, “Paw me!” I did so, naturally, with the grace of a bulldog on an icy pond.

Space and time seemed to twist like a frisbee in mid-flight. The world outside whirled, nap-time blending into frisky morning play until, with a sudden halt, the spinning ceased. I exited to find myself enveloping in the exotic smells of ancient Egypt – a far cry from Pawsburgh.

At my paws, the sprawling river Nile, at my nose, the wafting spices and scents I’d never sensed before. A kind canine stranger wagged, nudging me to follow him, past monuments of grandeur – and cats. So many cats.

The dog led me to a grand canopy where beneath, lounged a regal figure. “Dinner is served,” Cleopatra announced with a clasp of her hands. For a moment, I thought of Spaniel Spaghetti, but what was placed before me was a banquet fit for a Pharaoh’s hound.

As I took my first bite of lavish leftovers, Cleopatra leaned in and whispered, “You are as brave as Anubis himself!”

Flattered, I wagged, yet homesickness brushed my heart like a lonesome howl. I missed Bodhi and Sally, missed the tales we’d twirled together in our little Pawsburgh. I turned, trotting back to the blue box amidst gasps of surprise, leaving royalty to muse over their mysteriously disappearing dog.

The blue box buzzed once again, and as I pressed my paw onto another inviting lever, I pondered if perhaps my human’s doctor might just be called Doctor Who – as mad as that might sound.

When I emerged, the Patisserie hadn’t aged a day, not a crumb misplaced. Sally and Bodhi pounced, eager for gossip, but all I offered was a sagacious bulldog grin. After all, some secrets are best kept tucked within the folds of an Old English Bulldog’s face.

And so I snoozed under my old oak tree, dreaming of time-travel treats, secure in the knowledge that destiny – much like dinnertime – awaited at every corner.

The End.