Hey old man, been ruling the roost in Pawsburg today. Keeper of order amongst mischievous Maltese & devilish Dalmatians. Dodged water balloons & cucumber conspiracies. Even braved the squeaky toy temptation. Ah, the life of doggo royalty huh? Remember, ain’t no canine like Hoagie! Biscuits & belly rubs, your silent sentinel, Hoagie.

Listen to the story here

“Watch your tails, folks! Hoagie’s on the prowl again!” Rusty barked, his aged Labrador eyes twinkling with amusement.

It was a typical day in Pawsburg and I, Hoagie, the city’s most composed English Bulldog, was embarking on my daily patrol around the town. Pawsburg, my top-secret retreat, was the kind of place dogs only dream about. When our owners snoozed or went gallivanting somewhere, we would sneak out to this hidden canine oasis.

As per usual, my first stop was Fawn Cream Maltese Meadow. A bustling playground mediated by a fancy population of Maltese dogs, it was a hub of hustle and hustle, unless of course, the Maltese Senate called for a peace treaty. Who am I kidding, there’s hardly ever a truce in Pawsburg.

“Hoagie’s in the house!” exclaimed Sprinkles, the dotty Dalmatian, freckled face beaming as I clopped over.

“You mean in the meadow?” corrected Rusty, always the sage, from his perch in the Eastern White Westie Woods. To this, Sprinkles merely shrugged and turned to me, wagging her tail.

Before long, stomachs started rumbling, mine among the most vocal. “Hungry, Hoagie?” teased Rusty.

“Always,” I sighed, already daydreaming about lamb-flavored kibbles.

“We’re off to Furrific Fried Chicken, you joining?” asked Sprinkles.

Shaking my head, I opted for Bark and Bites instead. I had to admit, the lure of their chicken was strong, but Furrific’s tie-in with the villainous cucumber industry was a deal-breaker for me. Dear reader, let it be known that cucumbers and I were never meant to be.

Later, I found myself loitering by the Howling Husky Hardware Store. The gray sleek huskies there were renowned for their reliable delivery service and for their never-ending inventory of squeaky toys. And the squeaky toys, oh, what joy they brought me!

The evening saw me at Greyhound Grove. Everybody was there, for it was time for the grand reveal of Pawsburg’s newest shop – The Pooch Playhouse. The frolicsome chatter was interrupted when the largest water-filled balloon I ever saw, came bobbing into the crowd.

“Blasted water balloons!” I growled, inching away from the floating menace. A nameless fear stirred within me. My friends roared with laughter; anything that plucked me off my well-mannered pedestal always did the trick. Even Pawsburg had its downside, I suppose.

As stars started to pepper the sky, the vibrant shenanigans of Pawsburg began to subside. I trekked back to my blue house, belly full of lamb kibble goodness, and a content heart.

That’s how most of my day pans out in Pawsburg. A sanctuary of mischief, mayhem, and merriment. I may not be the social magnet, but that’s alright. I love this wild town, with its chaos and camaraderie. Back in the human world, I would resume my silent sentinel persona, the cucumber-loathing bulldog who would give an arm for a squeaky toy. But here, I am just Hoagie, a regular canine citizen in the town that never sleeps, Pawsburg.

As for the water balloons, let’s just say – there’s always a new day for a bulldog to grow some guts.

The End.