Hey Mom! So tonight, I led the Pawsburgh Horror Hounds in the Spooky Paws Spectacle—we owned that stage! From “Let’s Do the Bark Time Again” to my epic solo “Fetch of the Night,” even the ghostly Opera Bernard joined us! Exhausted but thrilled, I’m off to dream (broccoli-free, of course).

Paws and kisses,
Santi 🐾

**The Spooktacular Night at Pawsburgh**

The moon hung low over Pawsburgh, casting its silvery glow upon the peaks of Pointer Pier, where my evening escapade began. You remember me, don’t you? Santi, the dashing Pitbull with a lust for life and a deep-seated hatred for broccoli. Tonight was promising to be a howl of an adventure because, you see, it was the eve of the Spooky Paws Spectacle, and I had a bone to pick with the ghouls and goblins of Pawsburgh.

My journey started at Snout Snacks, where I fueled up on my favorite treat—marinated duck patties. It was here that I ran into my good friend Rufus, a scruffy terrier with more spunk than a fire hydrant in July. “Santi, my boy, ready to give them the old razzle-dazzle?” he yipped, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Rufus, I was born ready,” I barked back, barely containing my excitement.

We trotted over to Cocker Courtyard, the heart of tonight’s adventure. An ominous fog hung in the air, and the courtyard was alive with eerie lights and ghostly howls. There, under the shadow of the ancient oak, awaited my ragtag troupe of performers. They were an eclectic bunch, dogs of every breed, united by a love of theatrics. Together, we were the Pawsburgh Horror Hounds, and tonight we had one mission: to put on the most spook-tacular show Pawsburgh had ever seen.

Our destination? The grand old theatre at Shar-Pei Shores, an ornate relic from Pawsburgh’s early days. Legend had it that the theatre was haunted by the ghost of an opera-singing St. Bernard, lingering in the rafters, waiting for just the right moment to join in and harmonize. As we reached the shores, the mist swirled about, hiding our fears and amplifying our excitement.

“But Santi,” you might ask, “how could a brown Pitbull with a penchant for adventure navigate such spooky shenanigans?” With aplomb and a twist of the paw, of course!

As the velvet curtains went up, I took center stage. In the course of doggy history, there never was a show quite like our Pawsburgh Horror Picture Show. We kicked off with a bone-rattling rendition of “Let’s Do the Bark Time Again,” tails wagging in perfect synchronization.

Each dog had a part to play. Luna, the sultry Saluki, crooned, “Howl at the Moon,” sending shivers down the spines of even the bravest German Shepherds. Rufus delivered a spirited tap-dance number in “Tailspin Tango,” proving once again that terriers truly have two left paws.

But the crowd frothed with anticipation for the main event—my solo performance of “Fetch of the Night.” With my chestnut coat gleaming under the stage lights, and a sparkle of mischief in my amber eyes, I channeled every ounce of my playful energy and delivered a howl that echoed through all of Pawsburgh. I could feel the energy rise; the ghostly Opera Bernard had joined in, adding a haunting, harmonic overtone that sent shivers down our spines.

As our finale approached, we lined up for a final round of applause. But just as the curtains began to descend, a flash of lightning struck, and the thunder rolled—spine-chilling for an ordinary night, but merely theatrical brilliance for us! The audience erupted into howls and paw claps, and I allowed myself a moment of pride. Tonight, the Horror Hounds had conquered more than just our fears; we had explored the limits of our creativity and camaraderie.

When the final bow had been taken, and the applause died down, I found myself back at the serene shores of Pointer Pier, nestled against my beloved panda toy. Exhausted but exhilarated, I closed my eyes, content and ready to recount every spooky, flamboyant minute to my humans come morning.

But first, some well-deserved sleep—broccoli-free dreams, of course.

The End.