“Hey Mom, spent the day with my pack in Pawsburg, played “Master Barker” in Fetch Club! Ended up on a wild treasure hunt for my Orange Baby (Willie the cat’s idea). Guess who found it? Sissy! Spoiled her silly with Pupsicle Palace treats. All in a day’s work, back on my human cuddle duty tomorrow. 🐾 – Cottonpicker”

Listen to the story here.

One fine morning, or as we call it in Pawsburg ‘scratch-behind-the-ear’ time, I woke up to feel the sun gently itching my fur – the same light gray, wavy mane that danced beneath the sun – or as you humans call it; “mussing my do”. Yes, this is I, Turbo, and welcome to my most magical day.

Of course, getting to Pawsburg isn’t as easy as chasing your tail. It’s not a hop, skip, or a jump. Nope, it’s more like a wag, woof, and a dash. No human has caught sight of it; that is the rule in Pawsburg. Those with tails only, an unwritten canine law. Humans who question the whereabouts of their gone-to-Pawsburg pets, are met with puzzled expressions and non-committed shrugs.

As the pot-bellied clock above Bark Burgers struck the quarter, my pack and I assembled at Bullmastiff Boardwalk, our usual hangout spot in Pawsburg. Squirt, a dog barely bigger than a chew toy, Sissy, a Yorkshire Terrier with red fur like a traffic cone, and Willie, the cat – (he snuck in somehow, nobody quite knows how, but nobody seems to mind, so he stays).

They were silent respectors of the “Fetch Club” – a group of which I was proudly crowned the “Master Barker”. My vocals could sail through the strongest storm without faltering and cut through the thickest bone like ‘Pupperoni Pizza’ through your molars. Not that Sissy has experienced that, but we can all dream.

Today’s activity? Treasure hunting, a dog favorite, at the North Chihuahua Castle – with a twist. Looking for my ‘Orange Baby’, I’d mysteriously lost the day before. A dirty trick played by that sly Willie, trying to fit into the dog pack. Typical cat, always causing a fur-fuffle!

We navigated our way through the winding hallways, sniffing out every nook, chasing not only our tails but the scent of the nefarious orange cat, and my beloved missing plaything. Suddenly, I caught a whiff of something cheesy. My nostrils flared. I barked out, sing-song style, a clue!

“Cheese, my old nemesis! It said in ‘woof morse code’, ‘Turbo, not all those who wander are lost, but your Orange Baby sure is’.”

The pack burst into laughs. Despite the inherent tension of the situation, laughter comes as easy to us dogs as, well, barking to me. Sissy’s notoriously tail-wagging laugh was as uproarious than the joke itself. The search continued, enriched now with shared laughter, sunshine, and my one-of-a-kind vocal symphony, reverberating through the stone-walled castle.

In the middle of all this, Sissy, an unexpected hero, found my Orange Baby, tucked away in a corner – and that sneaky scent of the orange cat was all over it! Triumphantly, I grabbed my darling toy in my mouth. Sissy was rewarded with lick-kisses, a true show of canine respect – and a round on me at Pupsicle Palace.

Day ended, adventure won, we trooped out of the castle, tailed but none the worse for wear, to the waiting comfort of the Pet Partners Pet Supplies and Pampered Pooch Salon. What magical remedies they cooked up in their pot – for by morning, by the time you humans awoke, cuddly pets we were again, our romp in Pawsburg known only to us.

Come over to Pawsburg, where arch nemesis is an orange ball, cat, nay cheese! Where your only enemy is your human’s early morning alarm. Where your wildest dreams are just a bark away. Ta-ta for now, as my next grand adventure awaits me!

The End.