Hey Mom,

Guess what? Today I, your little Boony, turned Pawsburgh into a mystery-solving realm! A ghost Beagle lost his bone, and I found it, so now he’s at peace. Yep, I’ve become a supernatural detective on top of being the coolest pup in town. 🕵️🐾 Your boy’s making tails wag in the afterlife too!

Wags and licks,
Bruno

I always knew something extraordinary breathed within the walls of Pawsburgh—the place we dogs own the stage when our humans are away. Today’s escapade, though… even I, Bruno, with all my wandering whims, couldn’t have dreamed it up.

It starts with the usual buzz of anticipation; I can feel it in my paws, hear it in the thumping of tails from my buddies Bella and Danny. An ordinary morning in our world, but today, I was ready for something different. “Let’s hit Cavalier Cove,” I bark over the excited yips and yap of my companions, and off we trot.

Cavalier Cove is normally a blast, with the waves crashing, sense of camaraderie thick as the scent of fresh Doggie Daycare donuts. But something prickled at the back of my neck – a suspicion I was soon to validate.

“You guys feel that?” A tilt of my head as I direct the question at Bella and Danny, who alike pause to sniff the air. They chime in with passive nods. It isn’t just the heat or the tang of salt in the air. “Like a chew toy tingling with static?” I offer.

Threading through our usual shenanigans—a spirited game of fetch, our pit stop at Shepherd’s Shawarma—it’s this odd, unseen current that pricks at my sensors. And then, on the promenade, I see it: the vague outline of a tail, a spectral swish that vanishes as swiftly as it appeared.

“I’m telling you, I saw something,” I mutter as we head towards Bloodhound Bluffs. I think I can make my eyes project “conviction,” although as a dog, I’ve never seen my own expression. Nonetheless, my pals merely wag their tails in that bewildered manner.

The day carries on. Pawsburgh is thrumming with its usual life. Dogs saunter in and out of Fetch! Toys and Treats. Canine laughter, if there is such a thing, echoes down the alleyways and over the green expanse of Pomeranian Park.

But at the bluffs, the supernatural catches up with us. One moment we’re basking in the view, the next, the air ripples like a disturbed pond—and out steps a ghostly figure.

“Now you see it, right?” I bark, stepping forward while Bella and Danny huddle together. This is it—the supernatural, another dog but not quite. A Beagle with a translucent shimmer, his voice a soft echo, “I’m lost,” it whimpers.

Pawsburgh myths do mention ghost dogs – pups with unfinished business. I approach, and the Beagle recounts his tale of a buried bone, one he dug deep into the ground at Pomeranian Park, then up and departed for the eternal kennel without a clue, and now can’t rest not knowing if it’s still there.

“You’ve come to the right Chihuahua-Pug,” I assure him. “Bruno’s the name, and ‘finding your lost bone’ is the game.”

We head back to Pomeranian Park, me taking the lead. I dig. Dirt flies, tails wag, spirit barks. And there it is, the bone, still remarkably intact.

The ghostly Beagle beams—or I imagine he would if he wasn’t semi-transparent. As we bury the bone together, he fades with a soft, contented woof.

Back home, as I share the tale with Niki—who only hears eager yips and barks—I realize Pawsburgh isn’t just a playground. It’s a place of wonders where even those of us with the littlest legs can chase the grandest of adventures and the noblest of quests. Carousel_closed

The End.