“Dad, crazy night! Pulled a pup-heist with Aunt Sue, Uncle Geoff, and Ron. Chihuahua Castle stole peanut butter bones from K9 Kebabs, so we stole ’em back! Now chewin’ on victory. Despite the lettuce terror, Pawsburg’s gritty charm never fails, just like us bulldogs. Night, night. – Your Little Slice of Angel Pie”

Listen to the story here

Alright, so there I was, Holly, the finest speckled bulldog this side of the Mississippi, just barely awake. It had been a long day of chasing critters’ shadows ’round the backyard. You gotta understand, life in Pawsburg, it ain’t like these doggie paradise dreams they spin. You got to make your own adventures. Be your own best friend. I hoisted myself up, shaking off the weariness. Ain’t no rest for the wicked, after all.

I staggered towards Poodle Pond, the moonlight reflecting off its glassy surface. Boy, were those Pawsburg nights something else. The kind of tableau you’d paint if you could, but ain’t no brush stroke that could capture it right. Not in its musical quiet, with the round moon standing guard like an old, loyal friend.

Outside K9 Kebabs, I could smell the beef slowly sizzling. Tantalizing. I couldn’t resist. I wasn’t known for my restraint, especially when it came to food. ‘Cept lettuce. You wouldn’t catch me dead with that green devil. But here at K9 Kebabs, they had the stuff dogs dream of: sirloin served just the way we like it, raw and with a side of peanut butter.

Then I heard footsteps behind me. Turned around and found Aunt Sue, Uncle Geoff and Uncle Ron lumbering over. Good old folk, not a bad bone between them. ‘Cept they seemed as beat as a horse caught in a dust storm. “Dreadful awful thing happened at the Chihuahua Castle,” Uncle Ron grunts. “Took all the peanut butter out of the bones.” And for a moment, silence. The audacity!

In solidarity, we three made a pact then and there. We’d trek over Southern Golden Retriever River, infiltrate the damn Castle, steal back the peanut-butter-filled bones, and get our rightful feast. Now, remember, I’m a lover, not a fighter. But you wouldn’t deny a thirsty soul a sip of water, would you?

Long story short, we navigated the rocky terrain under the cloak of darkness, pulled off our caper, and walked out with our loot. I treated myself to a rich, creamy peanut butter bone, feeling like a queen basking in her hard-earned glory.

It was moments such as these that made me realize – Pawsburg was a place that bred heroes out of ordinary dogs. It was the rugged terrain of the Wild West, it was the captivating beauty of those star-strewn nights, that kept us barking back for more. Life here was never dull. Unpredictable and rowdy, but a hell of a good time. A story you wouldn’t believe, unless you’re one of us, sneaking off to the town at night, one paw in an adventure, the other rooted in companionship.

But hey, enough yapping for now. Tomorrow is another adventure and by God, I need my beauty rest. So here’s to Pawsburg and the good life we lead. Adventure, camaraderie and the silent unity of the dog kingdom. Life here ain’t for the faint-hearted, but then again, when has a bulldog ever been faint at heart?

The End.