Hey Sam,

Just wrapped up an epic Thanksgiving adventure! Led the float parade, sniffed out a topiary crime scene with the gang, and exposed a pie-snatching, statue-walking caper… All in a day’s work. Turned out to be Dotty’s doing – felt left out, but we fixed it with a canine flash mob that had tails waggin’! Found the true spirit of the holiday – togetherness (and maybe a newfound taste for brussel sprouts 😜). Wags and barks!

– Cheeky Paws Georgie

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The sordid affair began, like most affairs in Pawsburgh do, with a bark and a wag. I, Georgie, was to lead the Thanksgiving Day float, an honor I held with such pride you’d think I’d been crowned King of the Kibble.

This particular morning, the crisp autumn air was abuzz with more than the usual excitement. Beneath the grandiose canopies of Samoyed Square, decorations that had adorned the parade route with an air of festivity had been viciously torn asunder. The Onyx Otterhound Oasis, usually a hub of tranquil reflection, had its centerpiece—a gloriously carved turkey-shaped topiary—defaced, with bits of faux feathers strewn about like the aftermath of a pillow fight.

I assembled the usual suspects; there was Sasha, her greyhound elegance as deceptive as her sleuthing skills were sharp, and Benji, the terrier with delusions of lupine grandeur, among others. Given our crew’s reputation for rambunctiousness, we suspected the saboteur might be one of our past victims of high jinks seeking revenge.

Our first clue was a fragment of tartan fabric clutched in the talons of a faux eagle atop a vandalized float. “A clue!” Benji barked, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically.

“Excellent, Watson,” I intoned in my best impression of a British detective, “but let us not leap to conclusions like a Chihuahua on espresso.”

We followed the trail, the fabric’s pattern reminiscent of a scarf worn by one notorious prankster poodle named Pierre, who harbored a peculiar distaste for parades due to his acute aversion to tuba sounds. Alas, reaching his residence at Shiba Inlet, we found him innocent, practicing his doggy paddle with alibis as watertight as his swimming technique.

The plot, much like my favorite peanut butter, thickened.

By chance, we stumbled upon Pom’s Pies, where the scent of the missing turkey pies wafted through the air like an olfactory symphony. Hector the Husky, proprietor of The Howling Husky Hardware Store, emerged with a pie tin, yet no pie. With a sigh, he reported an incident involving a mysterious character snatching pies and replacing them with—what’s almost too ghastly to mention—brussel sprouts, the audacity!

A cacophony of gasps ensued, all except from me, of course, as no self-respecting dog exposes a fellow canine’s aversion to green veggies in public.

The investigation took a charming turn when Collie’s Cuisine reported their rather large mascot statue had inexplicably taken a walk, only to reappear holding a sign that read: “Why parade when you can nap?”

It was a head-scratcher, quite literally, as Sasha demonstrated on the nearest lamppost.

As the sun began its descent, we found our saboteur, a disgruntled Dalmatian named Dotty, a former parade planner left out due to her penchant for pyrotechnic mishaps. Her tail drooped, her spots seemingly dull with the weight of exclusion.

In a twist of tail, we banded together and assured Dotty that her creative zeal could be put to better use, like choreographing the world’s first all-canine flash mob for the finale.

The parade proceeded with unprecedented pomp, the newly reformed Dalmatian leading a dazzling dance number that had the crowd howling with glee. The spirit of Thanksgiving, it turned out, was not about the floats or the pies but about embracing everyone in the canine cadre, brussel sprouts and all.

As I recounted the tale to my human, Sam, with vigorous tail wags and heartfelt barks, I realized that the true essence of thanksgiving was the bonds we’d reinforced and the new ones we’d formed. And perhaps, just perhaps, I’d developed a soft spot for brussel sprouts. But let’s not spread that around; a dog must maintain some secrets, after all.

The End.

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