Hey Mom,

I hope this lightens the mood a bit. Did you ever wonder what would happen if dogs ran the world? Ended up a hero in a pooch-led, post-apocalyptic tale called Pawsburg. Top dog, indeed! Found treasures in rubble, sniffed out food and took adorable pictures – all while missing my squeaky hedgehog. It’s a dog eat dog world here, but on the bright side, there’s an abundance of my favorite- blueberry muffins. Wish you were here (believe me, you’d love it).

Toodles,
Frenchie

Listen to the story here

There I was, rummaging through a pile of rubble on Boxer Beach, the scenic sight of Bulldog Bay to my right and Red Beagle Beach to my left. Pawsburg – a paradise turned apocalyptic playground. The memory of Pooched Potatoes, Dog-gone Good BBQ and Whiskers and Wings hung in the air like a spectre of a hunger I could no longer appease.

“Fetch!” cried Eddie, that manic shih tzu, tossing up flotsam – a starchy bowtie from some indistinct figure of the once bustling Snooty Snout Boutique. “Not now, Eddie,” I huffed, my brow furrowed in focus, “Well, not unless you find a blueberry muffin.” You see, that was the ticket to our survival – my odd culinary delight – they had a habit of turning up in the most improbable places.

“I smell food,” yowled Joey, that trident feline. His one superpower, sniffing out sustenance. He was an unlikely buddy in this post-apocalyptic society, but desperate times call for desperate friendships.

Our kind had outnumbered the evidence of human ilk. And those left were the ones you’d rather not meet in a dark alley of the Canine Cafe. Now, man’s best friend had to find a new order in the derbies of their owners’ world.

I dug through the wreckage, my heart yearning for the squeak of my hedgehog toy. I missed its reassuring sound, its cuddly comfort. But that squeaky little fellow was more than just a toy. In this dog eat dog world, my hedgehog served as a beacon for our safe house in the midst of chaos.

Suddenly, amidst the warring factions of Bulldog Bay and the feared kennel squatters of Boxer Beach, Eddie let out a whimper. He had found a battered symbol of civilisation we once knew – a vintage camera from Best in Show Photography.

Despite the dire circumstances, a surge of glee washed over him. “Looks like we’re still best in show,” he yipped, holding up the camera like a champion’s trophy.

As night fell on Pawsburg, we retired to our makeshift hideout under an old oak tree, our bodies craving rest. Tomorrow was another day of scavenging, another day in this treacherous playground.

Tonight, we’d sleep, with the ghost of Pawsburg providing an atmospheric lullaby. Tomorrow? Tomorrow, we’d continue our search. There had to be more blueberry muffins out there. There just had to be.

The End.