Hey Dad, Herc here,

Lived another day as a titan in Pawsburg. Chewed on some breakfast of champions, dug into classics at the bookstore, discussing life’s great mysteries with friends. Played fetch, won as usual. Everyday’s like swimming in a desert here, just more fur. Anyway, time to roll over and dream doggy dreams. Catch you in the AM!

– Teddy Bear

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For a titan, the day starts with a somber silence sinking into the streets of Pawsburg. As I peer through the foggy window of the house where I live, Hercules, the only speck of color in a world draped in monochrome, is stirring. He’s an English bulldog, sturdily built, with swathes of red and white fur, and eyes that never seem to agree on the same color. I dash out to join him, not wanting to be late for another of our urban adventures.

The dawn light doesn’t do much to reveal the hamlet hidden bosom of East Bulldog Bay. But Herc and I, we know every secret corner, every brick and cobblestone where stories come alive when the world of humans is fast asleep.

Our first stop before the sun angles too high is Tail Waggers, a place of culinary legend. Herc, the chowhound, swings the door wide open, offering me the first bite of the morning bliss – steak and bully sticks, a breakfast of champions. Now, try offering him vegetables and see the gentle beast turn his face away. Who can ever explain the gastronomic preferences of a bulldog?

Then it’s time to pay homage to knowledge at the Wagging Tail Bookstore. Herc’s mismatched eyes often spark beneath the lamplight, sweeping over rows of canine classics. However, today, they appear distracted, darting here and there. He lowers his eyes then, whispering his secret into my ear, “I don’t like the ear cleaning, Beau. It’s loud. Very, very loud!”

I shrug, eyes sparkling. “How about a rowdy game of fetch? With that new ball?” His eyes light up instantly, always in favor of a little adventure.

As the day journeys on, we catch up with Margaux, Beatzie, Boss, Coco, Tank, Lulu, and Baker. Herc’s closest friends. They gather at Lower Silver Siberian Summit, discussing everything from the latest trends in chew toys at The Canine Cafe to their collective fear of unexpected noises and the dreaded mail carriers.

We eat dinner at the Chow Hound Cafe, a quiet little gourmet joint hidden away in the South Siberian Summit. As the sun sets and the day folds around us like a warm blanket, Herc and I retreat for the night. I glance down at him, recalling every detail from his exploration jaunts. “So, Herc, how did you like the solitude of today?” I ask him.

His mismatched eyes stare back at me, and I hear the gentle thud of his tale against the wooden planks. “I guess,” he starts, “it’s like swimming in a desert, you never know what you’ll find or who you’ll meet. As long as you don’t have to go it alone, it’s all good.”

And as the day bleeds into night, blanketing Pawsburg in a silent hug, we slip back into the world of humans, ready to navigate the magic as the titan and his shapeshifter friend. As we gently fade away with the final hint of twilight, I’m reminded of the day spent full of wit and wisdom, reflecting on Herc’s last words – Life is a little kinder when you’re not alone.

The End.

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