“Hey Mom, spent my ‘nap’ freeing a misjudged bulldog in Pawsburg, a gourmet sandwich, and I caused sitcom-level chaos! Slept right through a vacuum attack. All in a dog’s day. PS: I didn’t touch the chicken, promise 😉 Love, your Sly Sid Sloth”

Listen to the story here.

Emerging from the cozy confines of my doggie bed, I stretched, shaking off the sleep. My name’s Millie, an Olde English Bulldogge by pedigree, though you wouldn’t know it from my tastes. Give me a succulent piece of chicken over pedigree any day! I gazed out the window, watching as night surrendered to dawn and an opportunity sparkled; it was time to make a quick, unnoticed getaway to Pawsburg.

Pawsburg, a haven for us dogs when the humans foolishly believed us to be snoozing or quietly playing with our toys. With a sly exit, I winked at my Sid Sloth stuffy before heading for Beagle Beach. Its infamous spots painted a vivid backdrop for doggie adventures, and along the shore, my multi-hued fur tried to mimic the rising sun.

Just as I was ready to gulp down a gourmet sandwich from Bow Wow Burgers, the calamitous chatter of paws against pavement pierced through the air. Quick as a cat—amusing irony, eh?—I hid behind the closest construct – The Woof and Whisker Wellness Center.

The ominous cacophony grew louder, and finally, a massive boulder of a bulldog, probably a distant cousin, steamrolled past me. He was narrowly pursued by a group of hapless volunteers from the Pawsburg pet shelter. He had wrongfully been accused of a food heist at the Kibble Cuisine, and now was their playful prisoner. Comic, isn’t it? A food charge after my own heart.

A mischievous gleam in my mismatched eyes, I hatched a plan. Ducking down the Beach Alley to Best in Show Photography, I nosed out my squeaky ball. With a tactical toss, the ball ricocheted off the walls, leading the tail of volunteers astray. This whimsical chaos was better than any sitcom!

Eventually, the bulldog stumbled into Fawn Pug Palace, a historic site, and I closed the entrance with a few well-placed sticks. The labyrinth within would conserve his freedom. It’s an old trick I picked in the Westie Woods, y’know.

As the volunteers scampered helplessly, the frenzied bulldog squeezed out of a secret opening, his path illuminated by the bright flash from Best in Show Photography, where my squeaky ball ended its spectacular journey, triggering a well-timed distraction.

In the end, a triumphant squeal escaped the bulldog, a beacon of success in our dog-eat-dog world; boys and girls, this was the Pawsburg rendition of the classic ‘Pet Break.’ However, it seemed the noise attracted a formidable enemy. A disgruntled vacuum cleaner, thunders into view, hum buzzing blues of torment.

I retreat into my safe loving world, curling back into my cozy doggie bed, pleased with a day of adventure, while the human, obvious to my day’s heroic endeavor, cooed, “Good girl, Millie, you’ve been sleeping all day,” Oh, if they only knew.

The End.