Hey Mom,

Guess who just turned detective🕵️‍♀️ and saved the Thanksgiving Day parade in Pawsburg? That’s right, your girl Percy! Pranks threatened our festivities, but with a little sniffing around and a big heart, we uncovered the lonely prankster, welcomed him in, and made the parade a howling success🎉. Turns out Thanksgiving is all about community and second chances. Love ya!

🐾 Percy

Listen to the story here

First off, let me tell you, dear friend, that even the most magical towns have their share of mysteries. Pawsburg, with all its quaint charm overflown by sandy beaches, aromatic eateries, and chic boutiques, wasn’t immune to the occasional conundrum. Especially now, when the Thanksgiving Day parade was nipping at our paws!

Let me set the stage for you: It was a week before the turkey’s day of fame – a time when our tails should’ve been wagging in unison, prepping for floats and feasts. But that year, dread clung to the air like the smoky aroma wafting from Corgi’s Crepes. You see, someone – or should I say, somepawdy – was intent on raining on our parade, quite literally.

Pranks were one thing, but this? This was personal. Floats were vandalised, the giant turkey balloon – punctured! Even Chihuahua’s Chimichangas had suffered the indignity of a pie heist. So, there I was, Percy the Adorable (but you knew that), sniffing through the clues that lay strewn like scattered kibble.

Apollo beside me, we strolled through Setter Shore with our pack of dogged detectives, our noses to the ground. It didn’t take a sleuth to deduce that the culprit must’ve been hanging around Pointer Pier recently. Why? A trail of sequins from a float led there, sparkling like the sly grin of a mischievous cat.

We sneaked towards the pier under a moonlit sky. Mischief was clearly afoot, and I, sporting my Canine Couture Clothing’s latest detective cloak, was ready to unearth it. “To the pier,” I whispered dramatically. It’s important to set the mood, you know.

But the truth we uncovered at Basenji Bay wasn’t what we expected. There, nursing a pile of stolen goods, was Shadow, a reserved Whippet with eyes full of remorse, rather than the malice we imagined. Turns out, Shadow felt left out of our celebrations year after year, never the star of the show, always on the fringes.

We could’ve barked. We could’ve howled. But we chose to listen. And understanding lit our hearts like the twinkle in a pup’s eyes upon finding the hidden treat.

“We need everyone in Pawsburg on this one,” I declared. And so, with the air of a Nora Ephron heroine, I orchestrated the most delightful plot twist. We took a dash of inclusivity, a sprinkle of compassion, and invited Shadow to use his clever stealth for the greater good.

And, Oh! The parade! The parade became a tapestry of transformation! Every dog from The Pampered Pooch Salon to The Fetching Feline Pet Emporium came together, and Shadow, he was right there with us, directing the turkey float, now repaired and more glorious than ever.

The streets of Pawsburg blossomed with cheer. Shadow’s heart swelled, fitting in at last. As we paraded down the boulevard, chuckling and celebrating, we understood that Thanksgiving wasn’t solely about the floats or even the food (though, by dog, Chihuahua’s Chimichangas are divine).

It’s about wagging together. It’s about every bark and yip being heard. It’s about finding the Shadow in all of us and inviting it into the light.

And as the parade drew to a close, there we stood, a mosaic of mirth and mutts. “Here’s to Pawsburg,” I barked, my voice ringing with the merriment of unity, “and to new traditions.”

Oh, Percy’s tale? Woven through this magical town’s streets with my companions, I discovered the true essence of Thanksgiving. For in the end, the parade was merely a stage, and we – every one of us – were the stars.

The End.

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