- Dog Tales
- September 14, 2023
Cassius Cash PawWord Story
“Hey Ma, the day was like a tussle with a troublesome squeaky toy. A new gang named Citrus Canines tried to invade our turf. But Alfie and I said ‘no way, Jose’. After few barks and nips, they scurried back. All in all, just another day guarding Spencerville. Bacon kisses, Cassius Cash.”
As the morning rays shimmered over Spencerville, I, Cassius Cash, started the day just as any other, relishing the warmth under the Boxer Bridge. The rustling leaves of Baker’s Park beckoning me from afar. Alfie was already up to something, his eyes dancing with mischief.
“There’s a new gang in town,” Alfie said. His button eyes were serious, a counterpoint to his wiry frame quivering with suppressed excitement.
Our tranquil life at Bulldog Bay was no stranger to excitement. Troublemakers popped up, looking to make a quick buck out of pet owners’ undying love for their departed best friends.
“They call themselves The Citrus Canines,” Alfie continued, no doubt enjoying the dramatic moment that was so characteristic of him.
My tail stilled at the name. Citrus. My most abhorred flavor. These hounds were already getting on my nerves. It was time to put my paw down. I couldn’t let such tomfoolery disturb our peaceful existence.
A rendezvous was planned at Fetch! Toys and Treats, our secret meeting point, under the guise of an innocent playdate. With my loyal rope toy by my side, I felt unstoppable, ready to confront any danger. Alfie, armed with his squeaky bone, never left my side, his loyalty a beacon of comfort amongst the brewing storm.
The Citrus Canines sauntered in, a sarcastic drag to their gait and a cocky glint in their eyes. They thought they had the upper hand but were gravely mistaken. They did not account for the calculating determination that resided within Cassius Cash.
They offered me a citrus-scented treat, a sign of affiliation. The audacity! I gave them a derisive snort and a cold shoulder. The smoky aroma of bacon wafting from Bow Wow Bistro won my attention instead.
Their leader, a scraggly Lurcher with lemon eyes, looked flabbergasted. Alfie, my right-paw and a master of capture tactics, loomed behind me – his silent strength enough to tip any dice in our favor.
And then, we pounced.
What ensued was a frenzy of fuzzy bodies and flying fur, punctuated by ringing barks echoing through the hustle and bustle of Spencerville. The Citrus Canines hadn’t anticipated such vehement resistance, evident in their wide-eyed disarray.
Outwitted and outnumbered, they retreated, their misdeeds curbed by a Boxer, a sprightly Terrier, and the love of a town for their departed pets. We celebrated our victory over a hearty meal at Bone Appetit, our hearts pounding with the thrum of camaraderie and triumph.
Thus ended another adventurous day in the life of Cassius Cash, the gentle Boxer with a mind bolstered by righteousness and a heart filled with loyalty. Together with my brother in arms, Alfie, we were the unsung guardians of Spencerville. Crime might lurk at every corner. Still, as long as we had each other, nothing could break the spirit of our nearly perfect haven.
The End.
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