Hey there,

Just a typical day in the life of Pawsburg’s queen, Sassy. Started with squirrel-hunting practice, followed by a glammed-up shopping trip, beach running, sunset bathing & ending it all, snug in bed post the dreaded fireworks. Our town may run on the hoomans’ time, but let’s be real – I’m the one who got the sway!

Ciao,
Sassy the Sass Queen 🐾

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Oh, would you look at that – Sassy’s up before me again. Just when I thought it was impossible. There she is, her golden fur glimmers in the velvet morning light that seeps through our window, rummaging through the bedroom for her precious stuffed squirrel. Honestly, I wouldn’t have my mornings any other way.

“Okay, Sassy, you’ve got exactly five seconds to plan your day or I’m taking over,” I tell her. Knowing her, she’s probably plotting a rendezvous with her partner-in-crime, Max and Daisy. The trio was the doggy version of Bonnie and Clyde with a touch of Mean Girls energy; always sniffing trouble, always finding it.

After a quick breakfast of apples – because who are we kidding, no gluten-packed dog biscuits for this queen – we are off to start our day. Now, and don’t you dare laugh, but Pawsburg has a day-life better than my own. We head over to ‘Pawsitively Purrfect Pet Store’ because Sassy has the fashion sense of Anna Wintour and demands a weekly wardrobe update.

“I merely accompany you. It’s you who run this town, isn’t it?” I ask Sassy. She nudges her snout at a collection of crimson collars, her brown eyes brimming with sass. And in that moment, I can’t help but shed a tear for the hooman dignity in me; gone, because Sassy has a better sense of color-co-ordination than I do.

We stop by the ‘Bark N Roll’ for our grab-and-go lunch. No turkey on the menu, thankfully. That’s one tantrum we are successfully avoiding today!

Next, we’re off for a quick run at the ‘Brindle Brown Boxer Beach’. Sassy leaps and bounds through the waves, the salty ocean water spraying off her like a canine Baywatch model while I huff and puff, trying to keep up. Sassy’s popularity is not lost on me. Seagulls swoop in salutes, while her canine peers wag their tails enviously at their beloved queen gallivanting in the sea.

Evening falls and we head over to our favorite spot, the park at the heart of Pawsburg. Sassy rolls luxuriously on the grass, soaking in the warmth of the setting sun. An array of dogs lounge around us. Here in the park, where she reigns supreme, Sassy is every bit the queen she was born to be.

As the day wraps up in Pawsburg, Sassy and I saunter back to the house, leaving the doggy ‘peasant life’ behind. But as the first sounds of distant fireworks reach our ears, Sassy jumps, her joyous demeanor flipped to one of fear. “It’s okay, Sass. Just the hoomans trying to be exciting,” I reassure her quietly.

And finally, as we curl up in bed, Sassy admired in her new crimson collar, today’s successful hunt, I’m almost jealous. Of the live wire energy. Of those puppy dog eyes being everyone’s favorite in the town. Almost.

Except, I’d never want to be the mailman. That is a level of sass even my hooman ego can’t handle. Snuggling close to my queen of Pawsburg, I whisper a soft, “Goodnight, your majesty,” and drift off into dreams of another colorful day in Pawsburg.

The End.

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