Hey family! Just larking about in Pawsburg; the midnight soccer game at Siberian Summit and grub at ‘Paws on the Grill’ were leaps and bounds above the rest! Almost got duped into ‘The Dapper Dog Salon’ (our version of the dreaded vet), but all’s swell that ends swell. Dug up quite the haul from my sandbox! This humble Labrador is now local Pawsburg hero. Woof & Love, Wolfgang 🐾 🐕

Listen to the story here

Bright and early after my owners had succumbed to their nightly slumbers, I snuck off to Pawsburg, as I usually did. ‘Twas Welsh Corgi Winston who bestowed the slipper, a secret ingredient that instantly whisked us dogs off to Pawsburg. Without wasting another heartbeat, I, Wolfgang, dashed across, treating my senses to the rustle of the maple leaves that carpeted East White Westie Woods.

Turning the corner, South Poodle pond came into full view, a mirage of twinkling stars trapped beneath its quiet surface. That’s where I met Cooper, the Border Collie, his sharp eyes flickering under the dim street light, recognition sparking instantly.

“Take you a dip, Wolfgang?” he queried, his tail swishing amicably.

“No time,” I retorted with a playful wag of my tail. “Didn’t you hear? The midnight football game’s on at South Siberian Summit!”

The Summit wasn’t South Siberian without its thin dusting of sparkly white frost, even in the dead heart of summer. It was perfect for sliding, playing and for the midnight game of soccer, which I would not countenance missing. My old soccer ball, void of any squeak, had been my companion in countless chases. The possibility of those chases was irresistible, far more tantalizing than those of the squeaky allure.

Once the game concluded and our doggie tummies rumbled in hunger, we dog-paddled our way to ‘Paws on the Grill.’ Smoky tendrils of grilled chicken wrapped their savory fingers around my nostrils and yanked me in my tracks. Slipping into a daydream, I remembered my humans grilling chicken, the aroma instantaneously pulling me from my dreams, awakening a beast of hunger. It didn’t take much to convince the others, so we decided to give our patronage to ‘Paws on the Grill’ that evening.

Even in the comforts of Pawsburg, some eerie places existed. One such was ‘The Dapper Dog Salon,’ bearing an uncanny resemblance to the dreaded vet’s office back in the human world. In my countless ventures at Pawsburg, I made certain my paw-steps never led me anywhere near it.

The play, food, and banter painted a merry picture, but they weren’t the only high-notes. Walking along the cobblestone streets of Pawsburg, creeping into quaint shops like ‘Fetch! Toys and Treats,’ or ‘The Snooty Snout Boutique,’ were delights in their own right.

The day embraced twilight, leaving in its wake a trail of starlight. It was time to return. As Pawsburg’s charm faded into the pitch-black night, I reached for my prized sandbox, a parting gift from Pawsburg. Retreating into my secret corner of the yard, I resumed my treasure hunting tales, the crisp night air resonating with echoes of another delightful adventure.

Pawsburg wasn’t merely a town, and its inhabitants were more than just dogs. It was a world complete with camaraderie, frolicking and escapism. A realm needed by every dog who wanted to live beyond his yard, beyond his kennel. And me? Well, I was just another dog named WOLFGANG, a Labrador with a heart full of adventures. I was the local star, the wheel that spun tales of enchantment and whim in the magical world of Pawsburg.

The End.