Hey Mom,

Just rocked Pawsburgh High’s first Pet School Musical with The Howling Heroes! 🐶🎤 Baxter got stage fright but we turned it into a hit with an epic improv. The crowd loved us, and I felt like the queen of canine crooners! Maybelle the Marvelous signing off with a wag and a woof! 🌟🐾

XO, Louise

In Pawsburgh, after the last human yawn has faded into night, a petite Yorkie named Maybelline scurries through the moonlit streets, her coat shimmering like twilight. It’s on nights like these that my world transfigures from the mundane into something straight out of a four-legged fairytale, and tonight, the stage is set for something spectacular.

“Maybelline,” Baxter huffs as he catches up, a details guy at heart; I love that about him. “Do you think we’re ready for this?”

Eyeing the marquee that sings ‘Pawsburgh High: Pet School Musical’ in neon letters, I turn and give him that look. You know the one—whiskers forward, eyes bright. The kind that says, ‘Is the grass green? Is the sky blue? Is kibble tastier covered in gravy?’

“We were born ready.” I assure.

The plan was simple: me, Baxter, and Whiskers – whom I’d wager is the only cat in canine history to cross the furry enclave of Pawsburgh – would sing our way into the annals of doggy drama with our band, ‘The Howling Heroes.’ But dreams, much like a game of fetch, often take unexpected bounces.

And bounce they did.

Word had spread from Diamond Doberman Dunes to Kelpie Keys: Maybelline and her band were the show to watch. The Rottweiler’s Ribs ran out of barbecued bones catering to the packed crowd, and I saw noses pressed against every window. Anxiety tickled my belly, but it was no match for the stage lights calling my name.

Strutting onto the stage, the plan was about to unfurl. Baxter’s beagle bark was key to our opening number, and Whiskers would follow, her ‘meow’ somehow in perfect pitch. Then I’d take the lead, and we’d bring the house down. Or so we thought.

Because when the curtains rose and the spotlight found us, I saw nothing but seats upon seats filled with eager pups from The Pampered Pooch Salon with freshly styled fur to the disciplined regulars of Happy Hounds Dog Walking, all restless for a show.

“Ready and…” I began, but alas, Baxter froze like a pup caught with a paw in the treat jar, stage fright seizing his throat. The audience murmured, a wave of restless energy buzzing through the room. Whiskers glanced at me, her sage-like wisdom in one arched eyebrow, mouthing silently, “Improvise.”

In times of crises, they say heroes are born. With a deep breath, I snatched Baxter’s plush squirrel from his unresisting grip and tossed it into the air. Spotting his beloved toy, the spell shattered and instinctively he howled, the note sailing over the auditorium. In that moment, the crowd went wild, barking in unison, paws thumping in applause.

Having stepped into the fray, Whiskers purred a jazz number, the sort that made your tail thump in its own rhythm. I joined in, weaving tales of bewitching dunes and enchanting quarters, of favorite restaurants and foodie havens, my voice painting the Pawsburgh they loved and knew, each note a ray of afternoon sun brought to life.

“And though thunder may scare and carrots may dismay,” I crooned in finale, “Remember, it’s here, in the heart of Pawsburgh, where heroes play and eat their grilled chicken—eyes closed, in a parfait of dreams.”

The standing ovation was nothing short of rapturous. We’d come together, befriended the fear, and now here we stood: ‘The Howling Heroes,’ beloved band of Pawsburgh High’s first Pet School Musical.

You can bet your bottom biscuit I’ll be telling my human about tonight, tail wagging with pride. She’ll call me ‘Maybelline the Marvelous.’ And you know what? She won’t be far off.

The End.

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