- Dog Tales
- December 8, 2023
Time-Travelling Terrier: Tales from Pawsburgh and Beyond!: A Lokie PawWord Story
Hey Ma and Pa,
Quick pupdate: I’ve zoomed through time again (dodging that ear cleaning, obvs 😏), sniffed out some historical hotspots, and might’ve left a bone in Marie Antoinette’s backyard. Now I’m about to play tag with a tennis ball-sized wormhole. Stay tuned for where I land! Is bacon still trending? 🥓
Catch ya later in time,
Lokie 🐾✨
Ah, the aroma of Whippet Wraps in the morning is unmistakable, even if the ‘morning’ is actually the Renaissance, or was it the Roaring Twenties yesterday? The thing about being a time-traveling Terrier like me, Lokie, is that you really lose track of the when and where. Or the why, considering I just wanted to nab a bite of that tantalizing bacon in the human world before finding myself trotting down Whippet Way—in Pawsburgh, no less.
Let me tell you, this gig as a time-traveling pet is pretty pawsome. I’ve romped through the dusty trails of ancient Egypt, and even though I’m no fan of water, I resisted the urge to leap into the Nile. And the 1960s? Bow-wow, humans really had a thing for us pups back then. Got my head scratched by a Beatle, I think. But, as fab as those experiences were, nothing beats Pawsburgh for a canine like me who knows what’s what and who’s who.
The thing is, I’ve got a bit of a rep here. The docile dogs digest their dinners at Fido’s Feast, but not me. I’m a Terrier Tacos kind of woofer, extra salsa, hold the cilantro – I’ve got a sophisticated palate.
And okay, yeah, I do have my quirks. Like, for instance, ear cleanings? Complete no-go for me. Last time they tried that at Woof and Whisker Wellness Center, I fled so fast I accidentally initiated a jump through time and ended up spending a week in a Shakespearean drama. “What light from yonder window breaks?” Huh, panic, that’s what.
Look, I admit I can be a bit stubborn and may occasionally leap into a time portal to avoid the vet. Who wouldn’t? But also, I’ve learned things. Like, apparently, in medieval times, dogs were used to turn roasting spits. Can you imagine this beautiful tri-colored coat smelling like eau de roast beef?
Anywho, here I am, back in Pawsburgh, playing it cool as I trot past The Barking Boutique. I’m not high-maintenance, but a dog’s got to look sharp, am I right? And as I make my escape from yet another ear cleaning appointment, I’m drawn to the mysterious alleyway behind The Woofy Bakery because, frankly, nothing says ‘I’m sorry for missing my ear cleaning’ quite like a cupcake or twelve.
But today’s not a typical frolic to the bakery. There’s a low whir in the air, like the buzz before a lightning storm—or before I completely lose my marbles at the sound of the dreaded vacuum cleaner. I glance up and, no bone about it, there’s a humongous, swirling portal above Bloodhound Bluffs with what looks like an oversized tennis ball hurtling toward me. Classic Pawsburgh.
With a woof and a tail wag, I step forward, trying to remember if I had left any unfinished business – like did I bury that bone from 18th century France in Madame Pompadour’s garden? But the thrill of adventure beckons, and I leap through the time vortex, landing paws-first into another escapade.
I skid to a stop on the soft grass of yet another time and place, my excitement racing faster than my mom and dad’s hearts when they find me napping on the forbidden couch. Adventures await, tales to be wagged, and of course, historical figures to impress with my devilishly good looks and sharp Terrier wit.
Well, I’d love to stick around and chew the fat, but there’s timey-wimey stuff to attend to. Who knows where or when I’ll end up next? Maybe I’ll chase a dinosaur, or play fetch with an astronaut on the moon. Just remember, if you ever need a hair-raising tail … I mean, tale, just call out for Lokie, the intrepid time-traveling Terrier of Pawsburgh.
Alright, one last thing before I dash – tell me the bacon’s still a thing in the future, okay?
The End.
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