Hey Mom,

Had another wild day in Pawsburgh—acted out a “Jacuzzi of Jericho” show for the humans, splashed like a dolphin, and still made it back safe. Pawsburgh’s got more drama than a dog park on a Saturday, but remember, your Teddy Bear’s always the hero of the tail. Sweet dreams!

Teddy 🐾✨

When the humans think we’re curled up dreaming of chasing rabbits, we sneak off to Pawsburgh, a bastion of canine freedom. Welcome to my world, pal. It’s like Westworld, only for the refined taste of the tail-waggers. I’m Teddy — red coat, white mask, and those baby blues that make the French Poodles say, “Ooh la la.” Yeah, that’s me.

The day started like any other — with a stretch and a big ol’ yawn. Moo Cow, my trusty sidekick, yakking away under my paw. Today we plotted a caper to remember, right after a stop at Newfoundland Nook to meditate with the mountains. Peaceful. Too peaceful…

“Husky’s Hotcakes, here I come,” I bark to myself. Not for pancakes, but for Rosie, the waitress. She pours a mean bowl of dog-safe chocolate milk, the only kind your fur should be dipped in.

As I mosey into town, the Doberman playing sheriff tips his hat. “Quite the scorcher, Teddy.”

I nod, knowing full well my disdain for rain makes me a sunny-day celeb. “Stay hydrated, Sheriff,” I wag as I pass.

Entering Husky’s, the scent of hotcakes and bacon is a salve to the soul. But I’m here on business. Rosie sees me and winks, sliding the cool bowl to the floor. I dip in, licking the creamy goodness.

“Seen Dexter?” I inquire between laps. Rosie nods towards Spaniel Springs.

Moo Cow under my arm, we hit the dusty trail. Dexter’s probably lounging, dreaming of bones in the sun. But things in Pawsburgh are never that simple.

Approaching the Springs, I spot Dexter, drifting in the water, floating towards a peculiar bubbling. That’s new. Pawsburgh’s full of surprises, but this? This smells of human meddling.

“Teddy! It’s like a Jacuzzi!” Dexter’s barking is loud enough to wake the napping Newfoundlands.

I jump in, the cool water against my fiery fur like an unwanted hug from a cactus. Dexter’s not the sharpest claw in the paw, but he’s my pal. We’re circling the strange bubbles when suddenly, the water jets send us rocketing skyward. Moo Cow squeals in delight. Or terror. Probably both.

We land with a splash, laughing like hyenas at a stand-up routine. But we realize we’re not in Spaniel Springs anymore. We’re snagged in some kind of simulation, a West Pet World charade.

“Dog-gone human tricks!” I bark.

“Dude, where’s my bone?” Dexter wonders aloud.

We must look like a pair of doggy astronauts to the Chihuahuas spying on us from Chihuahua’s Chimichangas. They’re wise to this scene, their little noggins filled with secrets.

“Amigos,” I start diplomatically, “what’s the deal with the Jacuzzi of Jericho?”

They exchange glances. Then, one pipes up, “It’s the new attraction. Humans love a good splash.”

Figures. Well, Pawsburgh might be magic, but it’s our magic.

I whisper to Dexter, he nods and we launch into an over-the-top display of splish-splash. The humans will eat this up.

We splash until the sun dips low, giving the humans their money’s worth. But as night falls, Dexter and I, we slip away, back to our simple canine dreams.

I exit Pawsburgh just as the moon kisses the sky, Moo Cow still in tow, knowing when I wake up in my human’s embrace, I’ll have quite the tale to bark into their unsuspecting ears.

Remember, in Pawsburgh, every dog has its day, and every night is a story waiting to be fetched. Catch ya in the tailspin, friend. Teddy out.

The End.