Hey Mom,

Guess what? I accidentally became the champ of Pawsburgh’s Pet Games! 😂 My “planned” grand entrance? More like scented stumble into fur-flying chaos. Outsmarted the competition with my accidental humor! Crossing the finish line was a nose-length victory. The Golden Bone’s now chilling with my plushies. Winning? Fun, but I’m more about the laughs & licks. Craziness reigns, but so does Penny the Curious, aka your PDad.

❤️ Penny

I’d like to say I planned it. I’d like to say I prowled into Pawsburgh with a swagger in my step, my red and white coat gleaming with the Reveal or Conceal Doggie Pomade freshly applied at The Dapper Dog Salon. But truth be told, I stumbled in purely on account of a curious scent and found myself amidst the canine chaos of the Pet Games.

My name’s Penny, and yes, Flip and I—we’re inseparable, bound to the tune of adventure and coincidental tumblings into mysterious town gatherings such as this. So when the throng of tails swept me up, I thought, “Well, another day, another escapade to recount by the fireplace.”

Under the shadow of Spitz Spire, hordes of hounds huddled, plotting canine capers as if their four-legged lives depended on every leap and lunge. Paw Pad Thai wafted its exotic scents through the throng, taunting my belly, but focus, Penny! Today, I was to be more than a ‘Stuffed Babies’ nurturer.

Games Master Barker, a stout bulldog with a monocle, perhaps a smidge too tight, barked the rules, declaring that the famed Pearl Papillon Promenade was the finish line. But victory wasn’t solely a matter of speed—oh no. It was a cunning, tail-chasing feat of wits, and Flip’s balloon-toting antics… would have fitted right in, had he not been chasing butterflies in the backyard.

My hazel eyes scanned the contestants—there was Poodle the Problem Solver, Rottweiler the Wrestler, and the ever-silent Shih Tzu of Stealth. Each formidable, each with an eye on The Golden Bone. And there I stood, the vibrant colored obstacle amongst them, closer to ‘indoorsy’ than ‘dominator’—yet the desire to dominate bubbled within me like peanut butter at the roof of my mouth.

To me, ‘games’ meant tug-of-war and fetch, not this orchestrated hullabaloo. But Flip’s voice echoed in my spirit, “Penny, some dogs have a stick, others a Frisbee—today, you have the games.” So, with nerves firmer than my stand against vet visits, I wagged my tail in salute.

The whistle blew like a gale through Harrier Harbor, where Penny the Curious, the Brave, the Stubborn took flight. Each station was a Pandora’s box of potential disgrace. Canine Kabobs challenged our discipline with meats dangling from strings, and Pooch’s Pub—oh, the hydration station that nearly witnessed my downfall. But I thought of cuddles and car rides, and my legs found their rhythm.

You see, in the art of dialogue, Neil Simon said you should surprise yourself. So I engaged Rottweiler in a battle of wits and spouted spontaneous jokes at Poodle until she nearly dropped her stick. My thoughts? If I’m not as swift, I’ll disarm them with laughter.

The race ended in a photo finish, my red nose across the line with milliseconds to spare, my canine competitors behind me, each still chortling over a quip about chasing one’s own tail.

And though the sky threatened rain, a soft petrichor mingling with the scents of Pawsburgh, it only seemed to gloss the town in magical hues. I placed The Golden Bone between my stuffed cow and lamb, regaling them with heroic tales—as one does.

Will I compete again? Perhaps, though, admittedly, these games prove friendship and a good romp are more my sort of treasure. But let it be known, in the illustrious annals of Penny’s narratives, that on this day, in this picaresque tale of sights, scents, and sounds, a curious, brave, stubborn dog named Penny conquered the Pet Games of Pawsburgh with wits sharper than her bark.

The End.