Hey Mum and Dad,

Just a quick update from your fearless fluffball, Marnie! Last night, I embarked on a pawsome adventure to the Pet Games in Pawsburgh with trusty sidekick Mickey. Competed with the local celebripets, overcame obstacles (literal and metaphorical), and ran the fur off my paws. Found deeper loyalty to Joey, and also, I’ve developed a distaste for bananas and posties. Life’s ruff when you’re chasing glory and guarding your human brother’s stuffed unicorn. Will be back for cuddles soon!

Love and tail wags,
Moo 🐾

Listen to the story here

In the silvery glimmer of the moonlight that crept through the windowpane, it chanced that my human brother’s breaths slipped into the rhythm of slumber, and thus, I, Marnie, the majestic White Great Pyrenees, embarked on my nocturnal escape to the fabled Pawsburgh.

I was not alone. Mickey, with his floppy ears catching the wind of our hastened pace, was hot on my trail as we pranced through the shadow-laced streets until Lhasa Lane unfolded before us; a spectacle of lopsided buildings constructed, obviously, with charm rather than expertise. The air was imbued with a scent that, had it been a sound, would’ve been a siren call. Oh, the tapestry of odors—Pup’s Paella, Barking BBQ… My discerning nose twitched at the array of culinary sonnets each carried by the gentle breeze.

We arrived at Pawsitively Purrfect Pet Store to collect our gear, accosted by a slobbering Golden Retriever manning the place who, I’ll tell you, was a bit too buoyant for a creature presiding over competitive paraphernalia. Mickey, ever the diplomat, negotiated two paw-fitted sneakers and a compass that, by appearances, seemed a charming relic.

The Quartz Qimmiq Quarter was a mere frolic away, thumping with the pounding paw-pads of my fellow competitors. A mix of anticipation and territorial wariness perfumed the air. Canines of all shapes and statures spun tales of fantastical exploits—a Beagle, claiming he’d mapped every inch of Pomeranian Park, a muscular Mastiff boasting of his exploits snaring the fastest squirrel.

Yet here I stood, Marnie, the dilapidated stuffed unicorn I’d covertly snagged from Joey’s room clutched tightly in my maw; a talisman amidst this madness. “This is, frankly, not my milieu,” I mused to myself even as Mickey reminded me, “In it to win it, Marnie. No mercy, remember?”

The Pet Games commenced at the crack of daylight, keen eyes shifting, and with my patronage to such frivolities decidedly wavering, the starting signal – a titanic bark – loomed overhead. Admittedly, I never had much taste for these canine charades of grandeur; the chase, the pomp, the circumstance. But oh, to sprint across the sandy beach, to let the briny waves lick at my paws and be serenaded by the siren song of the sea—that was my kind of game.

The competition—ah, it was a scene to be reckoned with—tires swung from aged trees in Pomeranian Park as hurdles, rickety from too many summers. Of barbecue sauce trails that led to dead ends, clever traps for the overeager bloodhound. And endless strategic sprints toward the plushiest oasis of Pawsburgh—The Pooch Playhouse—where victors would relax after the heated battles.

Yet, despite the jest and jostle, I couldn’t quell the image of Joey, with his seaspray eyes and mischievous grin, eliciting that same quiver of loyalty from my heart as the cawing of seagulls did. The entanglement of this unordinary life, where challenge came in the form of a festive dance rather than an existential puzzle—how earnestly I played my part, this benevolent guardian, draped in ivory fur.

Mickey nudged me toward a starting line, his eyes glinting with the fervor of the fray. And as the thump of paws rose to a crescendo, I wove through the tapestry of my brethren.

“You know, I never really cared for bananas,” I declared, the irony lost on the wagging array around me. “Or formidable postal workers…” My voice trailed off as the race began. Not for the first time, the droll charm of existence tried to stick to my ribs. “No, no. Can’t abide by them.”

And with my unicorn firmly in tow, we sprang forth, into the whimsical heart of the Pet Games.

The End.