Hey Mom, it’s Otis! 🐾 Just saved Pawsburg from a cat heist, disguised as a sheepdog! 🕵️‍♀️ Protected our precious Golden Hydrant at the Diamond Doberman Dunes—with some gadget assistance, of course. 🚿💎 All in a night’s work for this undercover hero. 🐶 Can’t wait to tell Angela all about it when she’s back. Tail wags and triumph! 🎖️🐾 #GuardianOfTheHydrant
– Otie

Well, I’ll be danged if the sun weren’t just dipping below the Bloodhound Bluffs when I roused myself from a nap-time preamble—one of them preparatory sorts for what was bound to be no ordinary evening in Pawsburg. This was Otis speakin’, that same border Jack mongrel your heart might’ve taken a shine to—if you’ve got the stomach for a yarn of quivering suspense and canine cunning.

‘Twas on a night thick with the perfume of mystery, I found myself pacing back and forth on the polished floors of my hearth, haunted by a hankerin’ for adventure like no other. Angela, bless her dear heart, had left for one of them human endeavors—something they call a “business trip.” And there I sat, lonesome as a treed coon, savin’ for the company of my chewed-on stuffed raccoon toy that had seen better days, true as I’m sittin’ here.

No sooner had the clock struck the witching hour when a low growl in my belly yearned for a spot of supper. But I weren’t in the mood for just any old kibble; my thoughts scampered straight to the Canine Kabobs down yonder at Pup’s Poutine. The robustness of their beef kabobs—Lord-a-mercy—can make a grown dog weep with joy.

I cinched my determination around me like a snug collar and off I snuck, out into the covert night-life of Pawsburg. My first stop, The Barking Boutique, to snatch meself a fetching disguise—lest any no-goodniks were to spot the likes of me traipsing alone. Under the guise of a shaggy sheepdog, the night was mine to claim, my steps as light as thistle.

Whispers were rustlin’ through the alleys about Diamond Doberman Dunes—seemed a band of rascally cats, purring and plotting, had been seen nosing about Spaniel Springs, uppity as you please. Cats in Pawsburg? I didn’t take to it kindly. And they were said to be after the one thing prized above all else: the Golden Hydrant—the very emblem of our freedom to roam and snuffle where we please. On my honor, I pledged, them varmints wouldn’t prevail.

I trundled through the moon-dappled streets, over to Shepherd’s Shawarma, where I heard the clinking of cutlery and the murmurs of a clandestine meeting. Peeking through the window, I spied them: a blur of whiskers and wicked tails. The sight chafed me like a burr in a paw.

Fortune’s smile, or maybe just a whiff of fate, led me next to The Howling Husky Hardware Store. There, I procured meself a few gadgets—can’t be too careful with cat burglars on the prowl.

Now, the task lay before me; to halt this feline fiesta, I would have to summon all my wits—and perhaps rally the regulars at The Canine Café, bravest dogs in all of Pawsburg.

The night grew old as the shadows played tricks on my eyes, each rustling leaf a possible interloper. I crept along, stealthy as a whisper, until I reached the very bastion where Pawsburg’s heart beat—the Diamond Doberman Dunes. The cats, nestled in dark corners, hadn’t yet seen fit to strike. But I knew it was only a matter of time.

I let loose a howl, summoning the Pawsburg pack. They materialized from every haunt, exuding the fierce loyalty only four-legged friends know. “We stand guard,” I declared with a ruff straight and true, “for no cat born of any mother shall lay their sneaky paws on our Golden Hydrant!”

Fur bristled, teeth glinted, and the cats, they knew the jig was up. They scattered like leaves before a fall gale, their eyes wide with the realizin’ that Pawsburg wasn’t no place for their kin.

And as the day broke, painting the sky with hues of victory, I returned—toys belied, my guardianship duty fulfilled. And I, Otis, once again just a rambunctious soul with a stuffed raccoon, waited for the inevitable praise from my dear Angela. I had a tale to tell, a secret life licked with thrills—and Pawsburg had remained ours, safe as a bone buried deep.

The End.

Share This Story: