Hey, it’s Roxy! You won’t believe it, but I jumped into a tub just to snatch back my old soccer ball from Ziggy! Darn thing had found its way into the suds, my worst enemy! But guess who emerged victorious? Call me the Fearless Soggy Royale of Pawsburg! Woof-Woof! 🐾

Listen to the story here

There I was, Roxy, Pitbull-Boxer mix, the heart throb of Pawsburg. Quick as lightning with heart unsullied. The morning was young, sun scattering its golden hues across Labrador Lake as I watched from Golden Gate Gardens. I could hear distant barks from Red Beagle Beach but they meant little to me. My focus, you see, was a tussle of power. The toys in Pawsburg were up for grabs and my eyes were set on my weathered soccer ball at Bow Wow Bistro.

Sneaking through Pup-Peroni’s back alley, past The Woofy Bakery and under the leafy shadow of The Wagging Tail Bookstore, my heart pounded like war drums. Ziggy, the daredevil Dachshund, held his own claim at The Pooch Playhouse, while wise old Cash had his eyes on a patrician squeaky hamburger. The power tussle was heating up; the throne of Pawsburg was at stake.

“Roxy,” said Ziggy, his tiny tail wagging furiously, “You’ll never retrieve that ball unless your courage weighs more than your fear of water!”

I gulped, for yes, the soccer ball inexplicably now floated in a huge tub at the Bistro, ready for a rinse. A bath, my one dread. That soccer ball, once chased with unparalleled glee, now rested like a king on his foamy throne, testing the depths of my resolve.

But an inner voice said, forget not, Roxy, you are the pulse of Pawsburg, the irrepresible. So, I, with my brindle coat sparking in the mid-day sun, channeled the courage of a boxer, the tenacity of a Pitbull, and leapt into the water, carving a destiny that only legends speak of.

As I emerged with the dripping ball clenched in triumph, the cheer that arose from Red Beagle Beach to Labradoodle Lake was unanimous. Good old Cash winked at me with a newfound respect, and even cheeky Ziggy had his joyous bark of approval.

That evening while feasting on my victory chicken treat, Ziggy by my side and Cash resting his wise head on me, I realized, this is Pawsburg. This is home. Forever bathed in the sun’s glorious glow, chasing toys, savoring treats because I, Roxy, love soccer balls and chicken-treats more than I hate baths. I was the unfearing queen who would continue to seize the day, in a town which knew no master but the rhythm of sheer, exuberant play.

The End.

Share This Story: