“BNE: Bark News Express. Took off for thrill hunt, ended up saving Pawsburg from a monster avalanche! Evac to Doggy Delight an epic suc-cess! Town shook but we stood firm. Woof if we aren’t just survival warriors! Turns out, this dog got serious fight. – Paddy ‘Shake-It-Off’ Winkler”

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It was one balmy evening when I felt the familiar buzz of an impending adventure. Mr. Winkler had fallen asleep in his recliner and Mrs. Winkler had been summoned to her Ladies Bingo Night. I saw an opportunity and took it, sneaking out to explore Pawsburg, a Shangri-La for us dogs, abundant in comradeship and merriment once our owners were asleep or absent.

No sooner had Gracie and I met on the outskirts of our homestead than the familiar rumble beneath our paws jolted our senses, the soil of Pawsburg was seldom this restless. With ears perked and tails still, the magnitude of what was happening dawned upon us. A tremor! The Silver Siberian Summit was trembling with a terrifying ferocity. Though it was a place of harsh winters and brave canines, today it posed a threat to all of Pawsburg.

Whiskers, grumpy as he was, hurried towards us, “The Summit! It’s not a regular avalanche. Something wicked this way comes.”

And he was right. The avalanche was not merely snow; it was carrying with it a wave of debris, spilling into Pawsburg like an unwelcome guest. The Dalmatian Desert, usually home to tumbleweeds and sun-bathing, had become a pit-stop for the fleeing inhabitants.

Without a second thought, we sprinted towards the Shepherd Skyline, the towering skyscrapers provided a vista of the oncoming catastrophe and hopefully a refuge. We barked warning signals to every doggo we crossed; from the Fetch! Toys and Treats store where a pack of Beagles was blissfully unaware, to Bone Appetit restaurant where a pug was innocently savoring a Steak Tartare.

There, atop the Shepherd Skyline, the sight was graver than we had anticipated. Pawsburg, our safe haven was on the brink of a disaster. I remember feeling my heart throb frightfully in my chest, my sturdy golden coat felt decidedly less protective.

As I watched our beloved town facing this disaster, a plan started forming in my head. Paddy Winkler wasn’t going to let his home go without a fight.

We organized groups to evacuate the residents and safely and swiftly usher them to the Doggy Delight, situated on a higher ground. The restaurant was packed; Huskies, Terriers, Bulldogs, and even Whiskers, who usually frowned upon canine company.

The night came bearing peace. The avalanche had ceased, leaving a shivering, phlegmatic Pawsburg behind. The town was scarred but not defeated. Exhausted, Gracie and I returned to Winkler Farm and I lay down, tail thumping against the floor in contentment, despite the long day we had. A miniature apocalypse had turned Pawsburg upside down, but Paddy and his friends had emerged victorious.

The tale of the Avalanche still lingers, having become a part of Pawsburg’s folklore, a tale recited over charming chew toys at The Wagging Tail Bookstore. And me? Well, I gained not just an adventure that night, but a profound realization – there’s more to me than just juicy burgers and long walks; there’s courage, resilience, and a sense of kinship. After all, aren’t we all just residents of the sprawling city of life?

That was the summer I became a hero for Pawsburg, and the fall when I realized, it is not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog!

The End.