“Dad, spent the day pondering on Holly’s sandy beach capers, marrowbone obsessions, and her legendary taste for chaos in Pawsburg. Our queen of mischief managed a royal trot back from Paws on the Grill. Her adventures keep the charm of this town alive. Every doggone day is a new chapter with our Little slice of Angel pie!”

Listen to the story here

Sitting on the sandy shores of Brindle Brown Boxer Beach, toes curling into the warm grains, I couldn’t help but reminisce about Holly. Her white fur, ages ago as pristine as this gleaming sand, now sporting clusters of adorable brown spots, that old girl, what a legend she is in Pawsburg.

The sun was retiring slowly over the Siberian Summit, Holly had vanished again. That was no surprise; she was off to one of her escapades, orchestrating grand missions in her classic English Bulldog strut. My mind took me on a nostalgic journey back to the time when she’d have her friends in splits at Bow Wow Burgers trying to hide her marrowbone in the least likely places. For Holly, few pleasures could rival the taste of the peanut-butter marrowbone, the way she preferred it. No lettuce though, could get this lady to digest even the tiniest shred of it.

Suddenly I found myself wrapped in the warmth of Holly’s humorous exploits at The Pooch Playhouse. Was it yesterday or perhaps the day before that she’d thrown Pawsburg into delightful chaos? The poor delivery lad! Then came the sinking feeling, the pang I felt whenever I glanced at the bath faucet. Me and Holly, buddies forever, but come bath time, the long face would be on display, stretching as the tap water rushed.

With the twinkle of Shih Tzu Stadium’s lights in the distance, my mind drifted off to her friendliest antics. Others must remember Aunt Sue, Uncle Ron, Uncle Geoff, a fantastic trio they all created. Not exact fans of her sprinting after their postal codes, but Holly was ever forgiven. Her tail-wagging joy was a sight to behold.

Suddenly the town of Pawsburg echoed with a familiar bustling noise. It was Holly, making a royal return from Paws On The Grill no less, trotting towards me, radiating ripples of joy across the peaceful beach. I patted the sand, offering her a spot next to me. There she sat, the adventuress, the mastermind, the life of Pawsburg.

In her company, there was a comfort, a beatific sense of calm that stretched like a live wire between the two of us. In her eyes, I found narratives untold and countless adventures unraveled. Here I was, a mere spectator, she, the star of an epic tale that spanned generations, presiding like a queen with her modest crown of sandy fur.

As the last glimmer of sun sunk below the horizon, I manically scribbled down the day’s happenings, the escapades of the day, the tales of Holly, of Pawsburg. Such is the life in our little town, where stories of our canine companions unravel every day at the pace of a heartache, at the trill of laughter, absolutely bonkers – in the way the best tales ought to be. Welcome to Pawsburg, the home of stories, the land of Holly!

And with that, Pawsburg’s most epic tale reached another ending. Or was it a new beginning? With Holly by my side, I couldn’t tell. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The End.