Hey fam, it’s Tito. So, I’m kinda like the Sherlock Holmes of Pawsburg, sniffing out trouble, solving mysteries, and running an underground operation with my pals Bella and Lily. Imagine James Bond, but shorter and furrier. Remember that Mr. Bill doll I always lug around? It’s been through some real tail-wagging adventures. Don’t worry, I’m still your cheesiest Corgi at heart. 🐾❤️ – Tito

It was a crisp night in Pawsburg, and the moon hung like a chew toy just high enough to be out of reach. I, Tito, the resident Welsh Corgi with a mix of white, fawn, and light red fur that could win an art show, sat at the corner of Garnet Greyhound Grove. I had a Mr. Bill doll clenched tightly between my jaws—a relic from my human life that kept me grounded in times of upheaval.

You see, things weren’t always this complicated. I used to spend my nights playfighting in the backyard or snagging a few nibbles of cheese from my human’s plate. Life was pawsitively simpler, but all that changed one evening at Labrador Lunch.

“Yo, Tito!” barked Lily, her tail whipping back and forth with the kind of uncontrollable glee only a mixed breed like her could muster. She trotted over with Bella, the schnauzer whose sophistication rivaled that of any purebred aristocrat. “He’s here.”

I nodded, a subtle movement that hinted I was in the know without giving too much away. We moved through Garnet Greyhound Grove and descended into Terrier Town, where the scent of smoked kibble mixed with the enchantment of nocturnal mystery.

We reached Canine Café, an underground speakeasy where all the dogs went to unwind and share whispers of the dark side. At a shadowy corner table, there sat Mr. Barks, a wizened, old Doberman with an imposing presence that could make even a vacuum cleaner tremble.

“Evening, Tito,” he rumbled, eying my Mr. Bill doll with curiosity before focusing on me. “You know why you’re here?”

I laid the doll on the table and gave him a nod. “I’ve heard the whispers, Mr. Barks. You’ve got a supply problem, and I’ve got the brains to fix it.”

Mr. Barks chuckled, a deep, resonant sound. “Cute. But it takes more than brains. You need loyalty, discretion, and an understanding of how this world works. You think you got that?”

I thought of my human family, of my relentless loyalty to them. Sure, I was intelligent, but I was also stubborn and fiercely protective. “More than you know.”

He slid a small vial across the table—a vial filled with Pawsburg’s newest narcotic, ‘Barkinine,’ a potent blend created by the estuary dogs in Eskimo Estuary. “If you can replicate and enhance this, you’ll have a place in my operation.”

Weeks turned into a whirlwind of clandestine meetings at The Wagging Tail Bookstore, canine chem labs set up in abandoned dens, and late-night rendezvous at Snout Snacks. My playfulness translated into an unorthodox but effective methodology, while my independent streak ensured I kept ahead of rival packs eager to nip my paws.

Bella and Lily were loyal partners. Bella, with her eye for detail and canine cunning, handled quality control, while Lily’s infectious spirit and street smarts managed distribution. Just as a whiff of cheese makes my tail wag furiously, the mix of danger and camaraderie in this new ‘enterprise’ invigorated me.

But, the twists and turns were frequent. Heated encounters with the Husky enforcers, treacherous dealings with shady Beagles, and near-escapes from the Pawsburg Patrol. Each night, I’d return to my human family, pulling over my favorite blanket to hide my activities. They’d never know; as long as the vacuum cleaner stayed silent, I was safe.

One night, as I was creating a new batch, a spark from a faulty wire ignited a flame. The lab, nestled near Eskimo Estuary, turned into an inferno. Bella, ever the sophisticated sentinel, barked out a plan to escape while Lily used her endless energy to knock down a weak wall.

We scampered out, barely escaping with our fur intact. I left my Mr. Bill doll behind, a casualty of this double life. “Mr. Barks won’t be happy,” Bella panted. “What’s our next move?”

I looked at the flickering flames, then back at my friends. They were loyal, resilient, and unyielding. “We rebuild,” I said, staunch and unwavering. “Pawsburg’s underworld doesn’t stop, and neither do we.”

For a moment, just a fleeting one, I missed that simple life. But in Pawsburg, a dog’s gotta play the cards he’s dealt. And I, Tito, the short, fluffy, corgi with the intelligence of a border collie and the stubbornness of a mule, was all in.

The End.

Share This Story: