Hey Mom! So, guess what? I’ve been keeping the neighborhood safe from runaway squirrels and giving those lonely mailmen some much-needed company. Also, sniffed out everyone’s smiles at the park today. Just another day in the life of your furry superhero. 🐾 Love, Angel (a.k.a. Itty Bitty Monkey)

Now, folks, I reckon you’ve known me long enough to recognize that’s right, it’s me, Angel. Some call me Itty Bitty, others Monkey, but rest assured, it’s one and the same gray gal with a white chest and ears perked up like they’re on a gap-toothed sentry duty. Like we dogs always say, it’s better to have your ears up and your paws ready for adventure.

‘Twas a night smothered in stillness, the kind when the moon hangs low as if eavesdropping. My human mom, bless her heart, was snuggled warm in that oversized bed of hers, leaving me a grand window of opportunity. With a trust fall that startled not a single feather in the coop, I dropped from the bed and headed for that spectral land—Pawsburg.

This particular sojourn had one destination: Saluki Sands. A fine stretch of golden grains that embraced the edge of Harrier Harbor like an old friend. No sooner had I arrived than Jack, a spry rat terrier with a coat spotted like an old-time Western cowpoke, charged up beside me, his paws kicking with all the zeal of a spring colt.

“Reckon you’re up for a race, Angel?” Jack piped with a grin wider than the Mississippi.

With a single nod, I took off faster than you can say ‘cat’s cradle’ (which, just so you know, provokes a necessary shudder in me—I’ll leave them cats to their napping). My surroundings of sand and salty air whirled by as we dashed over hills and through hollows, where more than once I noticed the telltale sign of a fellow canine enjoying the mystery of uncovering buried treasure.

After that sprinty escapade, we found ourselves hankering for a bite. Barker’s Bakery was just a pup’s crawl away. And there sat Woof Waffles himself, baking up a storm that could rouse the spirits of even the laziest hound. I treated myself to a savory biscuit while Jack managed a waffle dribbled in syrup—naturally, nothing that requires forks or humans present, of course.

Our journey pressed onward to the famed Diamond Doberman Dunes. Here lay an area where the wind dances, shaping the sand into what appears like endless glittering waves. In the distance, Bear, a Shih Tzu with fur soft as the bonnets on eager Easter morn, waved us over. He loved a good story as much as the next, and we spent a good spell recounting tales—like the time I mistook Dad’s pants leg for a game of tug-of-war. Plenty of laughter then.

Jasper, the mischievous pug, flounced over with news hotter than June asphalt. “The Puppy Pantry’s holding a raffle for the juiciest watermelon slice this side of the county line!”

A call I couldn’t ignore. Watermelon is as dear to me as Mom herself, though maybe just a smidgen below. We hustled to The Puppy Pantry, and by stroke of sheer luck (and a bit of charm), scored a spot in the contest. Winning wasn’t as sacred as partaking, and partake we did, savoring the crimson glory until it dribbled from our chins like summer’s greatest delight.

As the moon peeked lower, my heart told me ’twas time to head home. The road was behind us, but the tales before us ready to be spun at a moment’s bark.

With a leap through the glimmering portal, I found myself once again nestled under the covers, cozy and still as a whisper. Until the morn rises and brings with it new doings, ol’ Angel will rest, vigilant and thankful for another round of adventures.