Hey Mom,

Just wanted to let you know I had a fulfilling solo adventure in Pawsburgh today 🐾 – tasted the new chicken pie at Mutt Munchies, cozied up with a book about herbs, and got a snazzy trim! Missing Butch, but learning lots about independence and enjoying my own company. Can’t wait to share my stories with him once he’s back from the vet. Pawsburgh is as charming as ever, and every bit as nourishing for the spirit! 📚🌦️🐶

Hugs,
Queen Sammie 🐾👑

Listen to the story here

The moment the sunlight crept through the gap in the blinds, I knew it was going to be one of those days; a day filled with serendipitous encounters and hearty feasts in the secret dog haven of Pawsburgh. I, Sammie, purveyor of snuggles and connoisseur of the finest chicken, had my own special plans given it’s the first time Butch wouldn’t accompany me — he’s at the vet, getting his annual check-up.

As the town of Pawsburgh appeared out of thin doggy winks, I waddled affectionately towards Pointer Pier, the chorus of morning barks harmonizing with the rhythm of my heartbeats. My flappy ears danced in the breeze as I walked by Jade Jack Russell Junction, resisting the urge to delve into the days of yore when Butch and I, an inseparable duo, would frolic until twilight begged us home.

Newfoundland Nook beckoned today, but a detour beckoned first. I ambled toward Mutt Munchies—Laila and Tank had mentioned their new chicken pie. My choice of dish was, naturally, predictable as a tail’s wag when one mentions a walk.

The bakery’s warmth wrapped around me like a soft blanket—the bistro bustled with the humdrum of bootstrapping pups and seasoned hounds, each with their own tales twirling like dreamy aromas in the air. I smiled with a loyalty intrinsic to my soul, appreciating the independence that allowed me to relish this solitary peace while Butch was away.

Tank’s bellow boomed from behind, “Sammie, trying the chicken pie, huh?”
Their size might intimidate, and their barks reverberate, but the “gentle giants next door” knew my heart as I knew theirs.

But I wasn’t here just to feed my stomach; no, it was my spirit I aimed to nourish today. A stop at The Wagging Tail Bookstore was next on my silent itinerary. Even a maternal figure like me can find enlightenment in the pages of a good novel. Perhaps today, I’d find something about herbs, given Papa’s stir-fry—exotic as it seemed—had lacked conviction last night.

Books have a way of making one contemplate; the gentle whisk of a turning page akin to paws padding through life’s myriad paths. Despite my zeal having mellowed, each book felt like a favorite stuffy, tugging at my soul in gentle play, and with each tug, an echo of Butch’s laughter filled my ears.

Sunbathing would usually find its place here, but the ashen sky whispered promises of rain, a forecast that drops a shudder upon my spine. But withholding the sunshine, Pawsburgh offered a different kind of warmth today, one found in the quietude of Canine’s Cuisine amidst gentle chatter and the soft plink of fallen utensils.

“Just a trim please, and the ears—very careful with the ears,” I instructed the gracious groomer at Spa for Paws. My fondness for baths and ear-cleansing can be summed up as an acquired taste, much like my aversion to those pesky colorful veggies that Papa disguises under layers of gravy.

As I trotted home with a refreshed bounce, Pawsburgh began its slow fade, returning me to the world where I hold the title of steadfast companion, to my place by Butch’s favorite sunny spot.

Each quiet moment of the day had stitched a new understanding within me, a realization that these solitary adventures were just as rich as the shared ones, carved with lessons of self-discovery. I snuggled into my favorite couch spot, waiting for Butch’s return, with stories of the day already nesting like a lullaby in my heart. My development, much like Pawsburgh itself, existed beyond the confines of age — in the lifelong pursuit of wisdom, warmth, and the endless love I held for my precious son, Butch.

The End.