“Hey, superhero drama in Pawsburg Sat nite! Pepper-perps invaded Bark ‘n’ Roll. With a smoke screen, a squeaky distraction & my squad, beat the spice attack. Got the town back & celebrated with chicken at Pup-tizers. Just call me Wally ‘Pepperbane’ Bear! Woof!”

Listen to the story here

I might as well just be a dog, and not just any dog, but the charismatic Wally Bear. Pawsburg is where I run off to, my second home away from the humans, engaging in all sorts of canine misadventures. But what happened last Saturday was straight out of a tale, you’d hardly believe it if I didn’t recount it to you myself.

After bidding our humans goodnight with a heart-melting gaze, we prepared for our journey. Evan, Tyler, Logan, Emily, and I, conspicuous under the glow of the moon, embarked to our secret haven, Pawsburg. On reaching there, we discovered a crisis of catastrophic proportions.

Sure, under normal circumstances, Pawsburg is just housesitting, catching up, a stroll to Greyhound Grove, or a swim at the Black Bulldog bay. But not that evening, dear friends. Silence pervaded the streets. The usually zig-zagging scents of Waggle n’ Wok were conspicuously absent. Instead, the dreadful smell of…pepper drifted through the air accompanied by strange plumes of smoke. My heart dropped at the sight.

The enemy had infiltrated Bark ‘n’ Roll, latching on to its remarkably weak spot – the humans’ love for adding pepper to everything. The scent was causing pandemonium, with canines fleeing in all directions. It was chaos, pure chaos – but Wally Bear doesn’t falter at the sight of chaos. He dreams of order, safety, and more importantly, roast chicken from Pup-Tizers without a hint of pepper.

As we stared at the smoke billowing out, Tyler nudged towards Spa for Paws. “Smoke screen,” he whispered, a light of realization flickering in his eyes. Of course, our adversaries knew we wouldn’t go near pepper. They thought they had us cornered. But they were unfamiliar with the loyalty within our gang, weren’t they?

Bravely, I walked through the smoke, eyes watering, but senses alert. Sneaking through the back door of Bark ‘n’ Roll, my paws brushed against something oddly familiar. Ah, my squeaky hedgehog, the most reliable of alley companions.

Desperation breeds ingenuity, and a squeaky toy can breed confusion. After what seemed like a risky eternity, I made it, and rolled the toy across the floor. The perpetrators, distracted by the impending squeak, were no match for Emily, the quickest amongst us, who disarmed their pepper equipment.

Relieved, we ushered the pawcitizens back, smiles curling up on their faces. We celebrated with a celebratory chicken dinner at Pup-Tizers. The culinary victory was sweet, the roast chicken sweeter still, lingering on our tongues and hearts.

Never a dull moment in Pawsburg, I tell you. And while we may all be ‘just dogs’, that night we were heroes. Heroes who love a good roast chicken, and well, a squeaky toy and hate nothing, except…you know it, pepper!

The End.