Hey Mom,

Just wrapped up the Pawsburg Christmas Eve saga. Played the furry diplomat at Bulldog’s BBQ, sported a chic bandana (it’s our secret), and dodged balloon scares. I’m now curled under our twinkling tree, full of chicken dreams and heart bursting with that ‘pawsit’ love of the season. Pawsburg’s got the howliday spirit, and so do I! ❤️🐾🎄

Catch you in the festive flip side,
Skittles xo

Listen to the story here

As dawn splashed a cocktail of blushing hues over the landscape, I, Skittles, breathed in the morning air—each whiff was a vignette of burgeoning yuletide cheer. Pawsburg was stirring, the hum of magic barely audible over the anticipatory whisper of dog tags colliding.

It was Christmas Eve in Pawsburg, and the spirit of togetherness cuddled every bark and tail-wag.

“Mornin’, Skittles!” Tucker’s voice bounded towards me, as if riding on the back of a mirth-filled gust. The beagle never failed to find me underneath my preferred elm tree by Blue Basenji Bay, where frost kissed the grass with glistening decorum.

“Merry Christmas Eve,” I yipped back, my Jack Russell-Chihuahua ears perking up despite my natural reticence. Rudy, too, ambled over, his golden coat trimmed with pearls of dew. “Skittles,” he greeted, “today’s the day, isn’t it?”

Today, indeed, held promise—the grand Christmas feast at Bulldog’s Bbq would welcome every breed; a congress of companionship, aromas, and warmth. I longed for the chicken, secretly of course.

We trotted, a trio of anticipation, past Pearl Papillon Promenade, discussing how our humans—our guardians—obliviously sleep while we savor these moonlight reveries. Tucker expressed his excitement about gifts, “I sniffed out mine, a plush squirrel under the tree!”

Rudy mused, “It’s more than gifts; it’s the glint in a kid’s eye, the unconditional exchange between human and hound. Like that indulgent couch nap in the afterglow of feasting.”

A shiver cut through, not from the cold, but from memories—last year’s festivities, rudely interrupted by a popping balloon, sending me into a dash. Even now, the thought made my fur stand on end.

We passed The Woofy Bakery. “Should we fetch some yuletide treats?” I suggested. We laughed, our bark slightly louder than the decorum of Pawsburg would advise, but it was met with the love endowed within the holiday spirit.

Before closing in on Bulldog’s Bbq, we plotted a brief detour to Spa for Paws—but only to model the elegant bandanas adorned with seasonal joy. I’d never actually admit to enjoying it, but maybe one must sacrifice fashion at the altar of Christmas.

Reaching our savory goal, the sight of Bulldog’s Bbq was something of a carol itself. Dogs of all shapes, sizes, and coats mingled, exhaling breaths that ghosted in the chill. The restaurant was awash with season’s greetings, and we slipped into the throng, each friend, each furry face, a verse in the ode of Pawsburg’s Christmas.

A waft of that cherished chicken tickled my nose. Denied the pleasure of thumbs, we nonetheless ceremoniously voiced our thanks for the feast, and Tucker managed a “Let’s eat!” which incited a few suppressed giggles and a chorus of tails thumping in cheerful agreement.

By the time I curled my petite, tired frame beneath my human’s adorned tree, the spirit of Pawsburg planted firmly within my heart, I heard the distant chattering of Rudy and Tucker, echoing still.

“What a day,” I murmured, my thoughts a kaleidoscope of the joy, the laughter, the genteel terror of balloons.

My eyes fluttered shut, the chicken memory warming my belly, the squeaky toy of legend just a memory beneath the living room’s watchful couch. And, as the veil of sleep drew near, I pondered on the love, the bonds between creatures, and the magical threads that knit us, just as the holidays do—tightly, irrevocably, with joy intertwined.

In Pawsburg, in these moments, Christmas was not just a season, but a feeling, woven into the very fabric of our being. It was love, actually—and positively—pawsit.

And with that, as stars claimed the sky, I whispered to the night, “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”

The End.