Hey George,

Guess who’s got tails wagging in Pawsburg’s moonlit love story? Yours truly! Had my fur coiffed by a dashing shapeshifter at The Dapper Dog. Now I’m all ears over paws for him. More juicy deets when you throw me a bone! 😉

Tail wags and dog kisses,
Daphne 🐾

Listen to the story here

Oh, the clandestine escapades I’ve partaken in amid the twilight bustle of Pawsburg — a town swathed in the kind of magic you’d expect from a place solely run by the paws and snouts of my fellow canine compatriots. I, Daphne, a bulldog of considerable charm, will let you in on a peculiar tale, one where my four-legged heart found the most unexpected flutter of romance.

On a whim that smacked of destiny, I sneaked out one silvery moonlit evening. The chatter of the day’s gossips had my ears perked — a new shop, The Dapper Dog Salon, flung its doors wide open at Harrier Harbor. And me, with my lopsided ear, thought it wouldn’t be the daftest of dalliances to spruce up a tad. After all, Maple Lane had already whispered my name and my customary swagger by noon.

By the time I trotted into The Dapper Dog, I felt the usual stubbornness paw at my decisions; had I capitulated to the whims of Pawsburg’s refined society? But oh, the scents of lavender and chamomile that greeted me were divine! The dog handling the scissors carried a wisp of the supernatural — a Border Collie with eyes that twirled the very cosmos within their depths. They called him Remus.

Remus’ paw was steady, his snips precise, but it was the inexplicable warmth that washed over me I couldn’t quite place. Was it his touch, or the loaded glances we exchanged in the ornate mirror? That’s when he remarked with a glint, “A face with character, ’tis what defines the soul,” alluding to my ears, one perky, one lax, and I near swooned onto the polished floor.

Feeling rejuvenated way beyond mere looks, I sashayed out of The Dapper Dog with an allure I’d dare say could charm the leash off a St. Bernard. I decided to flaunt my newfound radiance along Ruby Rottweiler Ridge, where the moonlight kissed the cobblestones and the stars overhead performed a ballet of sorts.

As I pranced past Collie’s Cuisine, a notion struck me — were those the same soul-twirling cosmos I’d seen before now nestled within the constellations? Perhaps it was whimsical thinking; then again, Pawsburg is no stranger to whimsy.

With a tum, I realized I was not alone. Remus, my cosmically eyed groomer, was gazing at me, a soft chuckle dancing off his lips. “Under the spell of the stars, Daphne?” he inquired.

“Perhaps bewitched by the artiste of their reflection,” I replied with flirtation that would make Bella, my Spaniel friend, blush crimson.

A budding courtship unfurled faster than you could say “bone-appétit.” There amidst enchanted starlight we shared stories, laughter, and the kind of silence that speaks more than a yap or howl ever could.

The night dissolved into the shades of dawn as Remus escorted me home. He confessed, his voice scarcely above a murmur, “Pawsburg holds many secrets, Daphne. Might I trust you with mine?”

Turns out, my salon serendipity was no mere Border Collie, but a shapeshifter choosing the life of coiffeur delights. And I, smitten, thought, ‘Well, that’s Pawsburg for you.’

As I slipped through my dog flap, the first rays of morning casting long shadows in the living room, I snuggled into the sunbeam-lit couch with my plushy squirrel. Oh, George would never believe the adventures his darling Daphne cavorted in by moon’s whisper. Though with a little clever nudging, perhaps I could recount this magical romance to him. After all, the supernatural had a way of seeping into curious hearts, and mine, for sure, was bewitched.

The End.

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