Hey Dad,

Epic day in Pawsburgh. Channeled my inner Casanova & took on the tug-of-war challenge to win a date with Lilly! There were laughs, missteps, and a bit of Bulldog trickery. Ended up dining with her, not as a champ, just as me. Paws crossed, I think I’m more than just a friend. 🐾

Catch you later,
Growlbert

Listen to the story here

As the first ray of light broke through the curtains of my suburban abode, a mischievous twinkle danced in my eyes. Today was no ordinary day in Pawsburgh; it was the day I would showcase my undeniable charm and woo the renowned Lilly, the pug with a snore that could charm the collars off any canine.

I bounded down the cobblestoned Sapphire Schnauzer Street with Grogu tightly tucked under my loose jowls. Baker, with his matching fawn coat, lumbered by my side, rolling his eyes at my high hopes.

“Lilly’s a tough cookie, Albert,” he grunted, his words carrying the wisdom of a Bulldog twice his age. “And let’s remember the last time you tried romance—ended up with your tail between your legs, my friend.”

The memory stung—a paw over my ego. But today was a new day, and the Bulldog spirit within me growled for victory.

We reached Blue Basenji Bay, the cerulean water reflecting our eager faces. I released Grogu, letting him watch from the safety of the bench as I dipped my paw into the unknown waters of love.

Lilly basked in the sun, her curly tail a perfect spiral. She was surrounded by admirers much like fragrant flowers attract buzzing bees. It was comical how they tried impressing her with grand gestures and over-the-top declarations.

I decided on a classic Bulldog approach—simple and unadulterated. Plucking a frisbee from a nearby pup, I launched it her way. It sailed, spinning—my heart in sandwiched plastic—finally landing with a victorious plop before her.

“Fetch? Really, Albert?” Baker’s snicker did little to deter me.

Lilly’s gaze floated to me, and then… she laughed. Not a snort or a dignified chuckle but a full-hearted, boxy laughter that made my heart somersault.

Casually, I strolled up to her, salt-touched wind tousling my fawn fur.

“Albert, the day you beat me at tug-of-war is the day I go on a date with you,” she teased. It was an open challenge, and my Bulldog resolve wouldn’t let it slip by.

So there we stood, on our designated dueling ground, her fans forming a ring around us. Dog’s Delicacies had set a feast, and our date hinged on this very moment—the war of tug.

With Grogu as my muse, I gripped the rope. Our eyes locked, two contenders channeling their playful aggression into one decisive game. The rope taut, our struggle drew laughter and cheers.

But then, a twist—I let go, sending Lilly tumbling backward, the crowd gasping in feigned shock.

“Albert, you sneaky Bulldog!” Lilly righted herself, her laughter the melody to my heart’s symphony.

We settled at Setter’s Steakhouse, foregoing the menu for more pressing matters—conversation. We chatted about the shops, our shared disdain for ear-cleaning, and Baker’s affinity for dramatic exits (he had sailed off after my tactical retreat).

As the day concluded, I placed my paw over Lilly’s, our evening affirmed by the silence of comfort. The challenge hadn’t been about winning or losing; it had been about sharing a moment worth remembering—a romantic pause in our busy Pawsburgh lives.

Beneath the shroud of silliness, it mattered little if she viewed me as a hero or the jest. For in her eyes—the ones overshadowed by the softest of frowns—I was more than just Albert. I was a friend, perhaps a suitor, or even the goofy Bulldog who dared to dream of love.

The End.