Hey Mom and Dad, it’s Hover here, loving canine by day, daring adventurer by night in Pawsburgh. Ended up chasing a glowing ghost poodle named Penelope into the heart of mystery and, guess what, ended up falling head over tail for her! Who knew, right? Now we have a standing date for Terrier Tacos! Can’t wait to tell you more. Bow wow! – Holly 🐾

Listen to the story here

In Pawsburgh, a fantastical realm where one could witness dogs whispering tales of their human lives, I, Holly, found myself under the twinkle of the pearl-hued moonlight, on the lustrous arm of the Pearl Papillon Promenade. On my nights away from the hallowed human bed, I ventured here to seek the others, and some part of me hoped to encounter adventures that would ignite the fiery ember of romance within my rustic toned heart.

As I strutted past the Tail Wagger’s Tailor, esteemed for its collection of the finest collars, I couldn’t help but note the neon sign of Terrier Tacos reflecting in my wide, eager eyes. Oh, how I adored the tantalizing chicken treats; a mere whiff would send me spiraling into joyous dances. But tonight, my heart held a different craving.

A white wisp flickered at the corner of my eye, disappearing promptly into Mastiff Meadows. Now, it’s stated in the canine code of Pawsburgh that one does not ignore the lure of the white wisp. Off I went, galloping through the dew-kissed grass, my heart racing with the unfamiliar thrill of pursuit. As I neared, I noticed it was a poodle, luminescent under the moonlight. But there was a twist; her ethereal glow was not solely attributable to the silver moon. She was a ghost.

Now, a common misconception about Pit Bulls like me is that we are fearless, thanks to our indomitable spirit. And though I am protective of those I love, obeying my human parents to the letter, I dreaded the ghostly specter in front of me. After all, weren’t ghosts known for their horrifying tactics? Notwithstanding, I chose not to betray my fear and instead bowed respectfully, extending a warm greeting.

“I specter you!” I barked politely. Yes, even our puns were context-specific in Pawsburgh.

The ghost poodle, christened Penelope, laughed—an endearing, melodious sound that echoed in the serene meadows. I felt my earlier trepidation fade away, replaced with an eager curiosity. Tales whispered in the dark corners of the Doggone Deli filled with stories about spirits who were just lonely, stuck between realms, yearning for a friend. Perhaps, Penelope was no different.

Days turned into nights, adventures turned into memories, and the Pearl Papillon Promenade was no longer just a pathway. It was the magical avenue where I had encountered a specter of a different kind—no frightful apparition but a lonely heart. Brandishing my feelings would not be easy; after all, how does one invite a ghost for tacos?

While I chased balls in the Pawfect Training Center, my thoughts chased the idea of how to make Penelope materialize into a mid-noon date at the Terrier Tacos. Often, I found myself staring out into the verdant serenity of Pawsburgh, daydreaming. I had become a romantic, a Pit Bull in love with a ghost.

By the gleaming lake, under the comforting shade in Cocker Courtyard, I finally gathered the courage to ask Penelope out. I feared rejection, fearing the rip in my feelings would mirror the tug-of-war exploits with my favorite toys. To my surprise and utmost joy, Penelope agreed.

That day my rustic-toned heart felt a gamut of emotions: immense joy, nervous anticipation, the ecstasy of young love, and the calmness of companionship. Bravery shone in my eyes, not because I was diving headfirst into the unknown, but because I had extended my world to include an ethereal being that resonated with the gregarious charm of my spirit.

In the mystical land of Pawsburgh, I found an ‘unreal’ love that was very real in all its essence—a wondrous tale to whisper to my human parents each time I spiraled into joyous dances, relishing a chicken treat.

The End.