Hey hooman, guess who’s a tail-wagging time-traveler now? Your pup Porsha darted into the future and back before dinner! 🕒🐾 Had a glimpse of the wildest squeaky toys and a taste of the future’s steak. It was a barking good adventure but nothing beats our Pawsburgh. Can’t wait to chew over the details with you and a real steak! 🥩🚗🐶 #RoughCollieChronicles. Scratch you soon!

Woofs and wags,
Paws Einstein 🐾✨

I hadn’t planned on time travel when I woke up that morning. No, mornings in Pawsburgh are for enjoying the splendid isolation of an empty house, stretching one’s paws and contemplating the adventures ahead. But, as they say, every dog has its day, and mine was about to become quite peculiar.

It began like any other trip to The Groom Room. A touch of snipping and brushing to maintain my noble Collie demeanor – I must confess, the sight of my own resplendence in the mirror does make my tail wag uncontrollably.

Strolling out, with my coat shimmering like the night sky, my path took an unexpected detour as I caught the scent of steak wafting from Dog’s Delicacies. With my belly reminding me that all this beauty requires sustenance, I paced over to Chowhound’s Chophouse, where destiny awaited in the guise of a contraption parked just outside.

Gigi, an inventive sort with a penchant for mischief and gadgets, waved her paw at me from the driver’s seat of what appeared to be a rather eccentric car. An odd concoction of hardware from The Howling Husky and bits that sparkled with eldritch energy.

“Porsha!” she barked, her voice dripping with excitement. “I’ve modified my human’s car with a timeless contraption! It can chase the future or fetch the past – and it runs on steak!”

Now, you must understand, I am quite partial to a good chase, even if it’s chasing time itself. Gigi howled with glee as I hopped into the passenger seat, my heart beating faster than paws on Papillon Promenade.

The car rumbled like distant thunder, a sound I’m none too fond of. But the temptation of adventure outweighed my nerves. “Here goes nothing,” I woofed, trying to sound braver than I felt.

With a flash brighter than fireworks on a summer’s night, the world blurred. In that timeless moment, my only thought was of my plush confidant, the stuffed toy that wouldn’t be invented for hundreds of years or had been invented centuries ago – depending on one’s direction in time.

Then, with a jolt, Doberman Dunes came into focus. But these were not the dunes I knew. These were dunes from another time – sleek, futuristic playing posts stood where the old climbing frames once were, and the sand shimmered with a strange luminescence.

Porsha, the four-legged adventurer, had travelled to the future!

The dogs here spoke of newfangled games and treats – ‘Squeaky Toy 2.0’ and ‘Synth-steak’, they said. I listened wide-eyed – or as wide-eyed as a Rough Collie can look, which is pretty wide-eyed indeed.

It was beguiling, but as the evening hues painted the sky, homesickness tugged at my heartstrings. The clangor of Pooch’s Pub in my own time called to me, reminded me of the simple, joyous feasts shared with my human.

“Gigi, as thrilling as this is,” I muttered with a tinge of bashfulness, “I think I’d like to go back now.”

With a knowing nod, Gigi wagged her tail, a silent promise she’d get us home.

As we hurtled back through time, back to the Cocker Courtyard and Papillon Promenade I knew, I realized that the greatest joy wasn’t just in the chasing, but in the returning – to the familiar wrap of home, where my stories of the future would become tales to tell over our next shared steak dinner.

And let’s just say, it’s not every day a dog can boast of having her day… in the future.

The End.

Share This Story: