Hey Dad,

Guess what? While you’re off in dreamland, I’m out saving Pawsburg as the White Bulldog superhero – complete with a glowing chew toy shield and a sidekick named Peggy. We just out-barked some shady alley cats and kept the peace. Just another night for your brave Lollypop. 😎

Sweet dreams,
Lola 🐾✨

Listen to the story here

Ever wonder what I get up to when you’re off dreaming of whatever it is humans dream about? You see, I have a little secret—the sort of secret that sees my pristine white coat brushed with brown spots turn into a cape of night. My name is Lola, the White Australian Bulldog, and while you’re away, Pawsburg calls me to play.

Each night, when the stars are twinkling above and your breaths become deep and rhythmic, I wiggle my way from beneath your tranquilizing arm and out the small doggy door you so thoughtfully installed. I’m grateful for it, really, because without it, Pawsburg would be devoid of one of its most unassuming heroes: me.

Malamute Mountain silhouettes against the velvety sky as I pad softly towards my first destination—Affenpinscher Avenue. It’s there I meet Peggy, my cherished friend, a mix of Scottish Terrier charisma and Beagle charm. Her tail wags a happy rhythm as she falls in step beside me, our paws silent against the cobblestones.

“You look… different tonight, Lola,” Peggy murmurs, a hint of wonder in her voice.

“You think so?” I grin slyly and feel the wind tease my spotty ears, snatching the words from my mouth.

It’s true. Tonight, my form shimmers with a faint, azure glow. When the darkness of Pawsburg calls, an echo of power rumbles deep within my chest. The Kong chew toy—that faithful companion of mine—isn’t merely for slobbery chews in this world; it transmutes into a device of boundless energy. Tonight, Lola isn’t just a dog; she is Pawsburg’s guardian.

Down at Jade Jack Russell Junction, a commotion stirs. Peggy and I exchange a glance and pick up the pace. In the heart of the commotion stand a band of no-good cats—a rare sight in doggy territory, and certainly up to no canine-cordial activities. Their hisses and unfurled claws spell trouble with a capital T.

With a bark that’s more jarring than a dropped bone on a linoleum floor, I leap into the fray, my growl blended with determination. Peggy darts and ducks with a finesse that could only be described as superheroic. The toy in my mouth glows with the intensity of my resolve, cushioning the punches like the finest of shields.

And it’s over as quickly as it begun; the felines retreat with their tails between their hindquarters. Our nightly sanctuary of Pawsburg is safe once more. The crowd of onlooking dogs erupts into joyful barks, their tails painting the night with waves of gratitude.

Pawsburg’s Howling Husky Hardware Store flickers its lights in celebration, Canine Couture Clothing dresses its mannequins in heroic garb, and even The Doggie Daycare issues a collective howl of approval.

Peggy nuzzles my side. “You’re quite the superhero, Lola.”

And so, as the night deepens and the first hints of daylight threaten the horizon, Peggy and I make our way to the Barking Brunch to share a well-deserved plate of cheeseburgers—hold the salad, naturally. Remember, I do have a reputation to maintain.

After a savory meal and pats on the back from fellow canine citizens, I sneak back into our earthly home, your steady snores welcoming me back to reality. The cape fades, the glow diminishes, but the adventures of Pawsburg will be held in my heart until the next time duty barks.

So, as I curl back under your arm, warm and cozy, I dream of tomorrow’s adventures. Because by day, I may just be your Lola, but by night, I am the White Bulldog of Malamute Mountain, the silent guardian of Pawsburg. And you, dear friend, you sleep a little safer, all thanks to me.

The End.

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