Hey Mom,

Today I ruled the agility courses of the Pet Office, foiled a courrier with Academy Award-worthy drama, and starred as the lead prankster in our very own bark-umentary! Defended my tug-of-war title, too. And don’t worry – didn’t eat a single carrot. Another day in the life of your top dog, Valor. 🐾

Tail wags and face licks,
Valor

The name’s Valor, and if you think the daily grind at Pawsburgh’s Pet Office lacks adventure, well, my friend, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Now, I may just be a Brindle Plott hound to the untrained eye, but around these parts, I’m kind of the alpha of amusement, the hound of hijinks, if you will.

My day started in Newfoundland Nook, the equivalent of our water cooler area, except with more sniffing and tail wagging involved. Battle was already there, his tongue lolloping out in a lazy hello.

“Ready for the daily toil, partner?” he asked, his voice always had that drawl, like he’s perpetually waking from a nap – which, come to think of it, he often is.

“You bet,” I replied, pawing my rope toy. “But first, let’s hit Beagle Bagels. Running on an empty stomach is for the felines.”

Our way to Beagle Bagels was interrupted by the sight of Millie, the stylish poodle from The Dapper Dog Salon, who gave me the eyes. You know, the kind that say, ‘I saw you digging through the trash for that chicken bone.’ Well, joke’s on her – I found a perfectly good slice of pizza.

Approaching the counter, I locked eyes with the owner, a sprightly Beagle known for spinning yarns about his bagel empire.

“Give me the usual, Benny.”

Benny nodded, “Coming right up, Valor. You gonna face the carrots today?”

“Not on your life,” I snorted. Carrots. Might as well eat a piece of boring wrapped in bland.

The day’s work beckoned – you know, those incredibly important tasks like overseeing the production of chew toys at Fetch! Toys and Treats and ensuring everything at Woof and Whisker Wellness Center was up to snuff. Which meant, primarily, making sure the catnip was safely locked away. Few things are worse than a cat on a ‘nip trip, trust me.

As I passed by, those hidden cameras caught every bit of our mockumentary. “The Pet Office” they called it, saying it’d be the next big hit. I give them my best side – which, frankly, is every side.

The day really took off when the delivery person showed up. Battle and I had a system. While he yawned and stretched, lulling our visitor into a false sense of security, I went full drama king. Bark, pounce, repeat. But with finesse, a dance only the courier and I knew the steps to. By the end, they were tossing packages from the safety of the street. Mission accomplished.

Lunch was an affair at Labrador Lunch. I eyed someone else’s sandwich – was that roast beef? My longing look was an art form, but no dice. Settling for dog chow, I could still dream of feasting like a king. A king with an aversion to oceans and a love for tug-of-war negotiations in the conference room.

The climax of my day? That little red light above the camera went off during our Tug-Of-War segment. Battle was slackening, just as I gave a victorious pull.

“And cut! That’s a wrap for today, gentlemen,” the director called out.

Behind the scenes, I could hear Millie gossiping about the pizza incident. Battle was ready to nap under our favorite oak, and I settled beside him.

“Quite the day, Valor,” he murmured.

“Every day’s a story, Battle,” I mused. “And ours are best told with a tug on the rope and the cameras rolling.”

So here we lounged, kings of our mockumentary castle, until the director’s assistant came over with a treat. “Great work today, boys. Extra for Valor – managed the garbage scene with no cuts.”

As the sun set on Pawsburgh, a soft snore escaped from Battle. The rope toy lay victorious between my paws.

Carrots may be my nemesis, and solitude my foe, but here in Pawsburgh, even an office day can be a tail of adventure – for a hound named Valor.

The End.