Hey Jamie! FYI, turned detective today & sniffed out a ‘haunted’ toy on Lhasa Lane leading to a cosmic canine tale (Literally! Ever seen a pit bull in space? 🚀). All’s calm now, but Pawsburgh’s secret world has more tails to wag. Catch you on the earthly side! 🐾 ~ Karma

It’s the crack of dawn, or so they tell me; I’ve never been much for timekeeping. But here I am, Karma, rousing from slumber on the quilted haven that is Jamie’s bed. I suppose I should mention, before we dive into the curious happenings of this day, that I am indeed a pit bull of some repute – soft-coated, soul-eyed, and braver than I often get credit for.

This morning, as the sun flirted with the horizon, I stretched off the drowsiness and sauntered towards Pawsburgh. Oh, it’s a quaint little secret of ours, a place where us canines play at living like our absent humans, with their jobs and shops, and the ever-perplexing ‘taxes’.

I entered the Quartz Qimmiq Quarter, the air rich with the aroma from Bark-n-Bite Bistro. I might have gone for their famous pupcakes, but adventure – much like my coat – has a tendency to ripple through my days. Max, the dachshund with attitudes as long as his shape, greeted me with news of a haunting at Lhasa Lane.

“Oh, Karma, it’s frightful,” he bellowed – a little too cheerfully for talk of hauntings.

Naturally, I proposed an investigation; strange occurrences in Pawsburgh were as tender chicken to me – completely irresistible. We paced, a duo of sleuths, down to the infamous lane, the world quietly stirring alive behind us. Behind the aged oaks and the rustling hint of unseen critters, was Lhasa Lane. Where a fearsome forlorn howling had been heard, as far-fetched as stories come.

“Quite the cacophony last night,” I remarked, trying not to sound impressed. But there was no time for idle chat, not when the air turned thick with the scent of citrus – the full horror of which cannot be confessed by the written word. Leaping back, I tripped over something decidedly not a stick.

Quicker than you can say ‘Fido’s Feast’, the lane gave way to whispers, the shadows drawing close like nosy neighbors. What I unearthed with a swipe of my paw was astonishing – a toy, the likes of which I’ve never known. A rubber ball, but all aglow with hues of strangely shifting colors, tossing light like tossed salad.

I nosed it closer to Max, who studied it with improbable expertise. “Interdimensional,” he diagnosed. “A portal to another realm of existence,” his words – usually reserved for less than savory squirrel insults – carried import. Bella would have known what to do, but time wait for no dog.

With the touch of my velvet coat, the orb burst into song, a melody sweeter than any squeaky chicken. And that’s when the street, dear friend, turned sideways.

No, not metaphorically. Actually sideways.

Max and I stood, but not on solid ground – we were adrift in the cosmos, stars winking at us, probably finding dachshunds as amusing as the next celestial body. The pathway to Pawsburgh had been swallowed by a gap in the world, a shimmering portal into, well, who-knows-where.

“Typical,” I thought, with Dorothy Parker’s biting dulcet tones in mind. “First, they deny us thumbs, now this.”

I braved the unknown because, well, what else is a dog to do? And through the void, in that vast expanse, we found not ghouls or spirits but tales. Tales that stretched far and wide across the stars – our mark on the universe, canine constellations.

So here I sit, back on Jamie’s bed, writing this to you. A day’s journey into stranger bits and cosmic howls, a pit bull’s brush with the extraordinary. And between you and me, as much as adventure thrills, I shall stick to earthly pursuits… at least until the whispers of Lhasa Lane call again.

The End.