Hey Family,

Guess what? By night, I slip into a magical portal and become the hero of Pawsburg. Doc Roverstein’s time machine sent me to my puppyhood, where I saved young me from a storm with only a shiny gadget and some quick thinking! It was the ultimate butterfly hunt, and every adventure makes me who I am today.

Signing off with a tired tail wag,
Rocky 🐾

When the humans shut off the lights, I knew it was only a matter of time before the cozy silence of the living room turned into the vibrant hum of Pawsburg. As the clock’s hands inched past midnight, I slipped through the crack in the back door and sprinted to the secret portal disguised as a patch of tall grass by the fence. With a wag and a woof, I was through.

Pawsburg always felt like coming home. My soft golden fur gleamed under the moonlit sky, and my expressive brown eyes sparkled with the excitement of another adventure. Bella the Beagle and Max the Border Collie were waiting for me at Newfoundland Nook, the rendezvous point for our nightly escapades.

Tonight, though, was different. As I bounded into the Nook, tail wagging furiously, Bella and Max were huddled around a contraption that looked like it rolled straight out of a human’s sci-fi dream. Through the glint of the moon, I could see Max’s excitement painted all over his face.

“Rocky, you’re here! We’ve been waiting for you to test Doc Roverstein’s latest invention!” Max’s voice trembled with enthusiasm.

Doc Roverstein—a genius German Shepherd with a penchant for time—and some say mischief—had evidently been up to something. This bleary-eyed scientist had modified an old car left by some previous inhabitants of Pawsburg. The whole town was buzzing about it.

“What’s the plan?” I barked.

Bella, ever the information hoarder, wagged her tail in a reassuring way. “Hop in, Rocky. We need you to chase a few butterflies, but in… well, in the past.” Her words fizzled with excitement and mystery.

The vehicle hummed and purred once I clambered in, and before I could fully grasp what was happening, the world around me vanished in a whirl of tail-wagging dizziness. The car’s dashboard blinked furiously, and a few butterflies—not virtual, real ones—fluttered by the windshield. As instinct dictated, I barked and leaped, but instead of grazing a wood-paneled floor, I found myself in a sun-drenched meadow, one I knew to be, confusingly enough, from my puppyhood.

Everything was familiar yet sharper, fresher. The buttercups dotted the landscape in perfect symmetry, and not too far away, a younger me was enjoying creamy peanut butter treats. I decided to make this odd journey worthwhile and scampered through the meadow, relishing the carefree days when every butterfly seemed catchable.

Then I heard another bark—an echo of my youthful tone. Turning, I saw myself—a puppy, wide-eyed and full of dreams, pouncing at invisible enemies in the grass. But there was more to the past than sunny fields.

Out of nowhere, a clap of thunder reverberated through the air, accompanied by a stormcloud rolling ominously towards us. I hated thunderstorms—then and now. I had to stop this ripple of fear from catching my younger self. My future friend, Max, had stuffed a few gadgets in the car’s glovebox. I yanked out a shiny device and hurled it towards the stormcloud. It burst midair, pouring out a clear canopy that shielded the meadow.

As the storm evaporated into clear skies, I looked back to see Puppy-Me leaping at butterflies instead of cowering in fear. The significant moment had morphed into a trivial adventure, and I let out a satisfied woof.

Back in the modified car, I toggled another button. The world dissolved, spinning back to Pawsburg. Max and Bella greeted me with cheerful barks.

“So, how was the trip?” Bella’s tone was mischievously curious.

“Let’s just say, time-travel is the ultimate butterfly hunt,” I replied, eyes twinkling. We sauntered into Barker’s Bakery for a celebratory steak bite; the scent of peanut butter treats wafting through the air reminded me that every adventure, big or small, shapes who we are.

As the sun began to rise and the portal to the human world reappeared, I glanced back at Pawsburg. Cats may have nine lives, but one magical dog life was packed to the brim with paw-some journeys, time travel included.

And with a wag and a weary but contented woof, I returned home, ready to drift into human routines, dreaming of the next escapade when the world would once again become Pawsburg.

The End.