Hallie Blue PawWord Story

Hey Mom, Dad, remember my favorite squeaky squirrel toy? Turns out one foxhound from the neighborhood, Mrs. Puddleworth, took it! But fear not dear parents, for your Baby girl cunningly revealed the Pud’s mischief over a mouth-watering steak trap. A Pawsburg mystery solved! Guess who got her toy and dignity back? Tail wags and Love, Hallie Blue

Listen to the story here

Following a spectacular night of adventure, where our hijinks had left such malarkey that an owl would blush, we found ourselves sprawled out on the spongy turf of Upper Collie Canyon. The day was sprouting its first blush of light, and I, Hallie Blue – a Staffordshire terrier with lunar ambitions and earthy sensibilities – had no sign of my most cherished possession.

A squeaky squirrel, if you are to know. It held an orchestration of mirth, a symphony of frivolity, within its worn-out skin. Its squeaks echoed the language of my delight.

“Such a lowly toy to lose sleep over, Blue,” Luna scoffed. Luna had this knack for sounding like an annoyed schoolmarm at times. But could I truly lament the loss of such a joy, to one so blinded by intellect?

I had a score of suspects in this dastardly act of squirrel-napping. The whole of Pawsburg lay silent, oblivious to my torment. And as the lemony sunlight replaced the dim glow of dawn, the mystery of the stolen squirrel weighed heavy on my mind.

For a musing breed like ours, the scent of vengeance is particularly sweet. So, I thought of a plan, as cunning as the Collies of Collie Canyon. A trail to lure the unknown perpetrator.

I began by putting on a display at Doggie Day Care, subtly hinting about my enormous stash of steak – my second love after that squeaky squirrel. A treat so divine, even the snobbiest of residents from Snooty Snout Boutique couldn’t resist. The neighborhood buzzed with the news, and I watched it travel through the tail wags and eager whispers.

Meanwhile, I arranged for a lavish spread, pretending to gorge on a handsome feast of well-grilled steaks at Fishy Bites. The aroma of juicy steak floating through Pawsburg was irresistible. And like the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle, the trap was set at Bow Wow Bistro, where a smorgasbord of steak awaited the squirrel thief.

Like clockwork, the door creaked open, and in she sauntered – as sly as a foxhound could be. Mrs. Puddleworth, the dog who had ignored every rule in Pawsburg. The squeaky squirrel barely visible under her posh poodle-cut fur.

“SNOOPING AROUND, Mrs. PUD?” I emphasized louder than her surprise could handle. The steak in her mouth dropped, and so did my squeaky squirrel.

Silence loomed over us. Then, I let out a howl, robustly triumphant. Vengeance was mine. I picked up my squeaky plaything with a proud flourish. My squirrel, my symphony, my stolen sweetness – returned.

And just so, Pawsburg was introduced to another tale – the one where Hallie Blue outwitted the foxiest of foxhounds. Not just a tale to relish over a delightful Doggy Delight dinner, but a tale told and retold at every nook of Pawsburg – a testament to my triumph and a souvenir of sweat revenge.

The End.