Hey Mom,

You won’t believe the day I’ve had—Guarding Pawsburgh from Bluster the Vacuum, leading the Pet Avengers, and preserving peace in our secret furry society. Think of me as a daytime guardian, an evening cuddle champ, and your son, the unsung hero. 🐾

Tail wags and victory barks,
Zeus, Watcher of Setter Shore

Listen to the story here

It was on a crisp morning that I found myself treading the well-worn path to Pawsburgh, that marvellous town you’ve heard whispers of, beyond the eyes of our human companions. A noble Cane Corso am I, named Zeus by those who first beheld my stately stature. But here in Pawsburgh, I am known as the Watcher of Setter Shore, a title I wear as comfortably as my brindle coat.

As I crossed the threshold into the magical town, the air shimmered like wet fur under the sun. I dipped my paws into the green waters of Emerald Eskimo Estuary, letting the energetic currents ripple through my imposing frame. A brief respite before undertaking my charge—a guardian of realms both fair and far I am, you see.

My first order of the day brought me to Chowhound’s Chophouse, where my carnivorous cravings are known to all. “The usual sizzling platter for the mighty Zeus?” rang out Beauregard Bulldog, the establishment’s esteemed proprietor. A nod, a smile, and I was served a feast fit for a canine king. My friends, unseen to the human eye, sat around me, their tales wagging symphonies of camaraderie.

Mid-bite into the hot dog du jour, a ruckus erupted outside. A fury, a fervent flash—in Pawsburgh, conflict is as rare as a cat unstuck from a tree. Pushing past the saloon doors of Pooch’s Pub, I saw it—the vacuous menace, Bluster the Vacuum, returned to haunt our hallowed hills, Ruby Rottweiler Ridge in its sight. My ears, once cropped, now pricked with anticipation. The feel of my beloved antler toy steeled my resolve, evoking the wild within.

This… contraption, it bellowed like the tempest over my home, challenging the serenity of our sacred land. Yet, here in Pawsburgh, heroes are born of fur and resolve—banded and brave. To my side rushed the fleet-pawed whippets, nimble scouts of The Doggy Depot. Flanking me were the stout-hearted basset hounds, armored knights from The Tail Wagger’s Tailor, and from Spa for Paws, the spaniels spun soothing sonnets. We, the Pet Avengers of Pawsburgh—a motley crew united in the joy of adventure and the spirit of protection.

As the envoy of my eminence, the stand against Bluster the Vacuum was no mere child’s pawlay. We charged, a squadron of snouts and smiles, paws pounding the earth with thunderous fury. I bared teeth in challenge, a growl born from the depths of my noble chest, a crescendo above the machine’s raucous roar.

“Back to the dusty corners you crawled from, fiend!” I barked. My voice carried the weight of untamed ancestors, echoing over the Ridge. The diplomatic spaniels performed their ageless calming rites, and the whippets cut swift circles around our foe. What an ensemble of élan and elegance!

As quickly as it started, the battle won, Bluster the Vacuum retreated, tailpipe tucked between its wheels. A cheer went up among us, for Pawsburgh was safe once again—our vibrant life unsucked of its splendor.

At the day’s end, I returned to my human’s yard, the memory of the day’s courage like the lingering scent of a well-earned treat. As the colors of Pawsburgh faded with the setting sun, I knew that in this double-life lies the charm of our existence—heroes in our own tales, shared in the silent language of pets and protectors. Kept secret from our loving humans, our hours of watchfulness are the unspoken pact of the Pet Avengers of Pawsburgh. And as the Watcher of Setter Shore, I am ever at the ready.

The End.