Hey human, it’s me, Sadie, aka the Bark Bard of Pawsburg. Just had a revelatory romp with my guardian angel Clarence. Turns out, I’m the seasoning in the town’s kibble and the spark in every pup’s day. So, I’m embracing my role as the tail-wagging, tale-spinning heart of our furry community. Here’s to creating more stories and laughs! Prepare for a pup full of purpose this Christmas. 🎄🐾 – Sadie the Spice

Listen to the story here

Well, there I was, Sadie the beagle, with my trusty elephant Ellie squeezed beneath my paws, nestled on the Johnsons’ living room rug. The air was thick with the scent of pine and the twinkling of Christmas lights. I let out a pensive howl. It was Christmas Eve in Pawsburg, you see, and while my tail should’ve been wagging faster than a metronome in an orchestra, it was drooping like a mistletoe after a holiday party.

“Why so glum, chum?” a voice echoed from the shimmering shadows of the fireplace.

Startled, I jumped, Ellie flying across the room. “Who’s there?” I barked, my ears perking with intrigue as a wisp of celestial smoke materialized into a dog with wings. “Are you…?”

“The name’s Clarence,” he said, with a wag of his celestial tail, “your guardian angel. And I’m here to tell you, Sadie, that your days aren’t as ruff as you think.”

I tilted my head in confusion, my floppy ears creating comical silhouettes against the festive lights. “But Clarence, even though I frolic on Sapphire Schnauzer Street and chew waffles at Woof Waffles, something’s missing.”

“Come on, kiddo. Let’s take a walk,” Clarence suggested.

Before I knew it, we were strolling through Pawsburg, past Labrador Lunch where impressively, the scent of roasted turkey didn’t phase me. Through Cocker Courtyard we sauntered, where I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a decorated window.

“You see that, Sadie?” Clarence barked.

“See what? A beagle belle with a belly full of chicken dreamin’ of grilled feasts? A pup unable to indulge in Pup’s Poutine ’cause of my gourmet pedigree?” I joked in my classic, Brooksian style. Clarence chuckled, his jingle bell collar adding a festive soundtrack to our philosophical stroll.

“No, Sadie. You see a pooch with a purpose!” Clarence led me towards Rottweiler Ridge, where Bruno was overturning trash bins, looking quite forlorn. “He’s lost without your backyard capers.”

“Hmm, he does look a bit down in the dumps… literally.”

“And what’s this?” Clarence pointed a paw towards The Canine Cafe, where Whiskers was perched, seemingly awaiting a lively chase or a dramatic bed-stealing escapade.

“But I thought they’d be fine without my shenanigans,” I mused.

“Sure,” the angel replied, “they survive. But you, Sadie, you give ’em stories to bark about! You’re the spice in their kibble, the pep in their step!”

We trotted back home, and as we passed The Pawfect Training Center, I saw the pups training with an air less spirited than when we jostled together in unrestrained revelry. Their eyes seemed to search for me, the impish heart that invigorated their routines.

We arrived back to find Ellie, still lifeless where she’d landed. It was then I realized, with that convincingly cheesy, tender-hearted epiphany, Clarence was correct. “I suppose I bring more zest to their lives than a lemon does to mine!”

“That’s the spirit!” beamed Clarence. And just like that, he was gone, leaving the memory of his visit twinkling like the star atop our Christmas tree.

As the first hues of dawn stretched across the sky, and the Johnsons padded down the stairs, I made a holiday resolution. I would cherish my chase, honor my hijinks, and savor every squeak of dear Ellie, for I was the minstrel of merriment in the magnificent melody that was Pawsburg.

Chuckling to myself, I thought, “Not to be overly dramatic, but it is a wonderful bark, indeed!” And with a renewed sense of purpose, I awaited the new day, ready to spin tails of tail-chasing and tongue-lapping love.

The End.