Hey, just saved Christmas in Pawsburgh! Turns out, when the big bell vanished, my nose (and Max’s enthusiasm) led us to create the coolest jingle bell symphony ever! We used a zillion smaller bells instead, uniting the town in a furry festive cacophony. I’m pretty much a hero in a fur coat now. 🐾😏 Merry Bark-mas! – Indiana Bones (a.k.a. Conner)

Listen to the story here

Well, there I was, Conner the Black Lab, on a brisk and sparkling morning in Pawsburgh. You know me—I’m the four-legged shadow darting through the amber glow of the sunrise in Amber Akita Alley, my coat gleaming like a gemstone, albeit with a few stray leaves from my recent romp through the underbrush.

The town was abuzz with preparations for the Christmas bell festival, an event that had tails wagging and tongues aflutter for weeks. The central piece, an enormous, shiny bell, went missing, and everyone was up to their floppy ears in worry. Though, honestly, between you and me, I was rather preoccupied with a splendid, newly discovered rope toy that was infinitely more interesting than the latest town gossip.

Cap’n, the elderly Basset Hound and the mayor of Pawsburgh, called an emergency meeting at Dog’s Delicacies, and being the curious chap that I am, I trotted over with Max briskly on my heels. “We must jingle all the way to finding that bell,” he barked, clearly distressed. I wondered how much he actually cared about the jingling or was just concerned about missing out on his morning treat.

At the meeting, we all chimed in with our ideas, tail ends swishing over the smell of simmering chicken wafting from the kitchen. A delight, I might add, far superior to the dreadful fruits and veggies some pups gnaw on out of sheer madness.

Bella, sage as always, suggested a paw-organized search party. “Split up. Conner, you and Max take the Diamond Doberman Dunes. The rest of us will cover Basenji Bay and Amber Akita Alley.”

I nodded solemnly, trying my best to feign expertise in this rescue mission, envisioning myself as a Labrador version of Indiana Jones. The dunes were vast, and the ticking time had us scurrying—me a little more gracefully than Max, who seems to believe every outing is an invisible obstacle course.

We were halfway through the dunes, my keen nose to the ground, when suddenly, a gleam caught my eye. There, buried slightly under the sand, was the stolen bell—or so I thought. On closer inspection, it turned out to be a smaller bell from last year’s festival.

“Oh, it’s just an old one,” said Max, sounding disappointed. “Well, the more the merrier! Maybe we can set up a chorus of bells instead.”

And just like that, the gears in my furry noggin started cranking. “A symphony!” I woofed. We didn’t need the one big bell; we could create the jingle bell bark with hundreds of little ones.

We sprinted back to share our idea, gathering all the spare bells from Pawsburgh. Yes, even from The Doggy Depot, where I occasionally model for doggy jackets—the glamorous side gig you know I can’t resist boasting about.

By nightfall, our festival had transformed. Every corner of Pawsburgh jingled with a cacophony of bells. Each pup had a bell adorned around their neck, contributing to the melody.

As the festival resumed, the sense of community shone brighter than the star atop the tallest fir tree. Pooch’s Pub served hot bone broth, Happy Hounds Dog Walking organized festive games, and Woof and Whisker Wellness Center offered complimentary ear floofing for the occasion.

We barked and sang, sharing stories of the day’s frantic search, but in the unity of that ringing symphony, we discovered the true essence of Christmas spirit. By the way, I was relieved, to put it mildly, that the vet’s office was shut tight for the night.

Here’s the thing: there might not be a lot of reprieve from steadfast tradition in little Pawsburgh, but as I lay here, tuckered out with Max at my side, I can’t help but think that our little jingle bell bark was nothing short of a holiday miracle, ripe for the telling year after year. And as for the big bell? Let’s just say it reappeared the next day, mysteriously placed at the center of town. A Christmas magic? Perhaps. A tale for another day? Most certainly.

The End.