Hey hooman! 😎🐾

Guess who’s now the star of her own pawsome island adventure? 👑🏝️ It’s me, Pollita, your pint-sized explorer extraordinaire! Landing in the lap of mystery, steering a crew of castaways with sass and flair. Missin’ your strokes of the brush, but channeling my inner lioness to lead us home. 🐶✨ Stay tuned for tail-waggin’ tales of survival and snack quests! 🌟

Catch you on the fluff side,

Polly 🌺✌️

Listen to the story here

I woke up to a briny breath of air unfamiliar to my nostrils and the rhythmic lull of water lapping against an unseen shore. Sunlight danced like golden fireflies through my eyelids, coaxing them open. I stretched my snow-white limbs, each movement an unfurling of wings I didn’t know I had until that moment. Blinking the sleep away, my brown eyes took in the scenery, sparkling with both confusion and curiosity.

Oh, what a pickle we were in.

“Our *human* is really going to have some story to paint after this,” I murmured to myself, casting a wistful thought toward my artist, whose absence tugged at my heart.

Beside me, Buddy was already up, tail wagging with the sort of purpose that only Beagles have — unshakable even when marooned. Yes, we were stranded, a furry fellowship on an island that had not been christened on any Pawsburg map, far from Weimaraner Woods and Quartz Qimmiq Quarter, an ocean away from the savory wonders of Husky’s Hotcakes and the leafy betrayal of green beans in my bowl.

I chuckled lightly. “Buddy, you think there’s a terrier around that can whip up a taco? Or we have to settle for survival snacks?” My words were daubed with the signature wit Nora herself would give a stranded, sophisticated-yet-spunky canine.

Buddy’s floppy ears perked up. “I could sniff out a berry or two, I suppose,” he said, springing to his paws. Even I had to admire Buddy’s relentless optimism.

But I had no time to ponder. With a small, decisive bark, we set off to scout our temporary realm. The island wasn’t large, but it was lavish with unfamiliar flora and fauna that could either be friend or foe — a veritable smorgasbord of the unknown.

We discovered a freshwater spring, which offered a much-needed gulp of crisp, clear water. “Nature’s Bark Buffet,” I quipped, my tongue lapping up the liquid gift.

As midday approached, the tropical sun beat down on us with the subtlety of a marathon drum solo. I spotted a cozy nook under a small overhang of rock, and it struck me how it reminded me of my sun-drenched veranda back home. “Here, let’s rest. I used to do my best sunbathing in spots like this,” I whispered, more to myself than to Buddy.

He nodded in canine agreement, plopping down beside me. “How are we going to get back, Pollita?” he asked, his voice betraying a pinch of concern amidst his usual jovial bark.

“By using the greatest tool at our disposal,” I answered grandly. “Our wits, our will, and perhaps a friendly dolphin.”

As twilight draped a starry shawl over us, our gang from Pawsburg gathered. Whiskers — who’d been napping as if this shipwreck was a common occurrence — spoke up. “Shall we build a signal, or wait for voyagers from the north end of Schnauzer Street?”

Smirking, I knew just how to rally the troops. “Friends, we’re not just any pets. We’re Pawsburgians! We’ve navigated through Weimaraner Woods without a scratch, outsmarted the cleverest of cats at The Wagging Tail Bookstore, and savored the cuisine of Terrier Tacos with gusto.”

Inspirational barks erupted from my companions. “We shall thrive and seek the path home! After all, who else will narrate these grand adventures to our humans?” I declared, channeling the inherent drama of a canine Hemingway.

Side by side, paws united, we settled under the celestial canopy. Tomorrow, our tale of survival would continue. But tonight, we would rest, filled with dreams of home — each star a glimmer of hope in the velvety sky.

Yes, we’d make it back. After all, I’m Pollita, the Chihuahua with the heart of a lioness. And in the immortal words of those who’ve faced the impossible, “I’ll have what she’s having” — hope, with a dash of audacity.

The End.