Hey Mom,
Just a quick note to let you know I’ve been keeping busy protecting the neighborhood, chasing away squirrels, and making new friends. All in a day’s work for your favorite four-legged hero!
Love, Rump Roast.

Well now, reckon you’ll get a kick outta hearin’ ‘bout the most ruckus-filled afternoon I ever spent in that fine ol’ town of Pawsburg. You see, dear reader, I’m Tozer, the red-and-white English bulldog with a fancy spot on my noggin that folks say looks like I’m wearin’ black eyeliner. But this tale ain’t ‘bout my looks; it’s ‘bout the day I botched a bank robbery—or what we thought was one anyhow.

So there I was, one sunny afternoon, feelin’ extra spunky after a hearty breakfast of crisp French fries and juicy bananas. Yessiree, I’d managed to snag those from a plate left unwatched by Mom, who was too busy with her darn vacuum, somethin’ I naturally despise. With a boisterous bark, I rallied my gang: Duchess, the black and white Great Dane with a heart as big as her paws, and Sarge, the scrappy brown English bulldog with a nose for trouble.

We’d made our way to Quartz Qimmiq Quarter, right by that lively Sniff and Shop General Store. Nothin’ unusual ‘bout us dogs havin’ grand afternoons there, mind ya, but this was no ordinary day. We planned to hit the Pawburg Bank of Bones. A friendly game—so we thought. Collect ourselves some tasty chew toys for a game of fetch later on.

First stop was The Grooming Grove, where we washed off any tell-tale scents—ya can’t be too cautious, even in friendly Pawsburg. Duchess wrangled a disguise from Puppy’s Playpen Daycare. Her plan was fool proof: she’d shuffle up wearin’ a snazzy sunhat and distract ol’ Banker Beagle while Sarge and I made our way into the bone vault.

The grandiose Emerald Eskimo Estuary gleamed in the distance as we sauntered over to the bank. On our way, we couldn’t resist a quick stop at Husky’s Hotcakes—those pancake crumbs on the sidewalk were too temptin’. Sarge, with a pancake end hangin’ from his mouth, reminded me why we were at the bank: “Don’t forget, Tozer, it’s them Bark Box Chew Toys we’s after.”

Inside the bank, Duchess commenced her distractions, talkin’ ‘bout the latest Pawsburg gossip and how hot it was middle of summer to a very confused Banker Beagle. Meanwhile, Sarge and I pawed our way into the back. Silly us, we didn’t account for the bank’s squeaky floor. Before long, Duchess’s distraction wore thin, and Banker Beagle sniffed somethin’ was up.

Pretendin’ to test my agility skills, what with me being the famous Bulldog Agility Competitor and all, I put on my best act. “Mr. Man, is what Mom calls me—and she says I got more brains than fur,” I thought slyly. With each leap and jump, I hollered at Sarge, “In the vault, quick! We’ll grab them chew toys and scamper!”

But lo and behold, Duchess’s sunhat fell off and the jig was up. Banker Beagle sounded the alarm—barkin’ fit to wake a hound dead asleep. Quickly, I realized this wasn’t the playful heist we thought it’d be. It was time to sprint, the clock tickin’ and our tails tucked.

Well, we ran like the wind through Hound Heights, barreling toward Puppy Plate to hide among the others having their midday snacks. Our hearts raced faster than a Greyhound at a derby. Doggy passersby, in-between slurps of puppuccinos, offered puzzled looks but didn’t pay much mind as we joined the fray.

Once safe, I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sarge, reckon we ain’t cut out for bank robberies,” I admitted, panting. Duchess shook off her sunhat, laughin’ that big ol’ Great Dane laugh of hers. We had escape stories we could bark about till kingdom come.

Sure, we didn’t get them Bark Box Chew Toys, but the adventure made for one mighty fine day in Pawsburg. And rest assured, dear reader, this ol’ bulldog and his pals will find another escapade worth barkin’ about. But for now, we’ve got some patches of sunbathin’ to do.