Hey there!

Just a quick tail wag to sum up my role: I’m Chyna Hammond, part-time suburban pup and full-time captain of the S.S. Dogbone. I navigate the Kibble Quadrant with my loyal crew, dodging cosmic celery and exploring starry frontiers, all before the Harringtons call me home for dinner. 🚀🐾

Adventures await,
Captain Chyna

Listen to the story here

Every dawn in Pawsburgh begins not with a cock’s crow, but with the soft pad of paws against cobblestones. The day had only just begun, and I, Chyna Hammond, was already plotting an escapade that would make Captain Kirk wag his tail in approval if he had one, of course.

On this particularly fine morning, dappled light sprinkled through the bedroom window, casting a chessboard of shadows across my fur. I stretched, reaching from tip to tail with the sort of luxurious extension reserved for those well-versed in the art of idling, such as myself.

“Buddy, you awake yet?” I barked softly into my communicator, a nifty little collar device courtesy of Pawsome Pet Pharmacy’s latest intergalactic line.

“Chyna! Ears up, I’m all ears,” came the reply, a tad staticky but rife with the enthusiasm Golden Retrievers are known for.

At the edge of consciousness and reality, I leaped through the bedroom window, transforming before even touching the ground. My paws became rocket thrusters, my hazelnut spots like little solar systems across the milky white galaxy of my coat. The Harringtons wouldn’t believe the tales I had to tell, even if I could articulate them in human-speak.

The starship was waiting, its hull gleaming at Saluki Sands, shimmering under the rising twin suns. The doorway irised open upon my approach, granting me entry to this vessel of velvet-lined command consoles and rubber-bone gear shifts.

Buddy trailed behind me, his tail a vibrant flag of camaraderie, his coat a sunbeam caught in fur. I settled into the captain’s chair, a plush throne that bore an uncanny resemblance to the squirrely toy I so loved. It even had the rope tail! Ah, the folks at Tail Wagger’s Tailor sure knew their customer.

“Bark in your coordinates, mission crew, and be ready to face the vast expanse of the Kibble Quadrant,” I announced with the poise and gravitas that any self-respecting captain of the S.S. Dogbone would possess.

“Chyna, we’re getting a distress signal from Eskimo Estuary,” Buddy informed me and thus began our odyssey.

Gliding past Weimaraner Woods, I contemplated the cosmic dance of butterflies back on Earth. Out here in the void, stars flickered like those elusive beauties, taunting the bow of our ship as we sailed on invisible leashes.

We soon docked at Canine Cafe, a space-station eatery orbiting a gaseous giant that smelled faintly of Barking BBQ’s special interstellar ribs. I savored my astral salmon – freeze-dried but rich with the taste of home and companionship. Buddy drooled over a replicated turkey leg, while Whiskers (ever the enigma inside a riddle wrapped in mystery) nibbled on a piece of non-dairy intergalactic cheesefish.

Our mission took a turn when we stumbled into uncharted territory, a realm as bland and unappealing as celery in the vast banquet of the universe. The distress call was not a call but a siren’s allure; a black hole attempting to crunch and munch the spirit of our voyage with the underwhelming fervor of that detested vegetable.

“Alright, crew, it’s not the first sticky situation we’ve wiggled out of,” I mused, recalling countless tug-of-war matches won. “Thrusters at full!”

With a bone-chilling howl, Buddy manned the engines, and Whiskers calculated our escape trajectory with feline precision. We deftly skirted the void, like a well-chewed toy just out of a pup’s snatching jaws.

As Pawsburgh’s ground solidified underfoot and the starship faded like a distant dream, I found myself once again on the porch. A summer breeze wafted over, carrying the musky scent of adventure and the sizzling aroma of the Harrington’s dinner.

“Our little secret,” I whispered to the night, winking at the stars. “Until the next escapade beyond the backyard.”

And with that, I curled up on my cushion, a terrestrial canine explorer, captain of the velvet unknown—a dog of space, a rover of constellations, a Spaniel beyond the stars.

The End.