- Dog Tales
- June 28, 2023
Dolly Bulldog PawWord Story
“🐾 Hey mom, Dolly Diaries Day #101: Snored away as usual, scored a Sniff ‘n’ Snack hamburger for breakfast 🍔☀️, chilled by Retriever River with Rishi 🧸💦, and almost had a panic attack at Chow Hound Café due to a super weird sound which was actually just Barry Beagle’s surprise party for me 🎉. Lesson learned, expect anything in Pawsburg! PS: Still wouldn’t trade these adventures for all the hamburgers in the world! 🐶💕 ~Pumpkin”
Another day dawned in Pawsburg. The sun’s first rays gently kissed Boxer Beach, as the sleep-filled town rose from its slumber. Just as every morning, it was I, Dolly, the British Bulldog, leading the dawn chorus with my rhythmic snoring.
“I swear Dolly can out-snore a walrus,” Sleepy Pug, my next-door neighbor, chuckled in his usual, grumpy manner. I just wagged my tail in response and yawned away his comment. Heaven knows I do have my grace.
I ambled my way to the Sniff ‘n’ Snack, my morning haven of heavenly aromas. As I peered through the glass door, my eye patch drawing a stare or two, I spotted my very own slice of paw-dise – a juicy hamburger on the counter near Miss Kitty, the town cook. My smell receptors went into overdrive; I was drawn to it like alley cats to fish.
“Morning, Dolly!” she playfully chimed, her eyes twinkling. “Your usual?” A hearty chortle escaped my lips. It’s like she read my doggie mind!
The day was ever so bright and warm, perfect to retreat to my happy place, Retriever River. Rishi the Fishy, the plush toy, was already wincing at the idea of getting wet. Oh, the things you have to endure for friendship. We could see East Bulldog Bay from here. Frenchie, the local heartthrob, was sunbathing, oblivious to the medley of giggling poodles passing by.
However, the day took quite an odd turn. Nearing the Chow Hound Café, a weird noise, somewhat like a humming vacuum, began to fill my ears. Recollecting my dislike for thunderous sounds, my focus was drawn away from the burger wafting from my plate. My eyes scanned the area.
It was coming from the Canine Cafe. Shadows entwined and twisted, spewing an uncanny blue light from within. My years had never prepared me for something so…strange.
My guard dog instincts kicked into full gear. Gathering my plush toy army, we strode into the weirdly humming cafe. The patrons stared at the sight of possible trepidation arriving, armed with plush toys. My heroism did sometimes come off as comedic, I admit.
We reached the source – a lump of… something gyrating, its odd hum getting louder. It suddenly stopped and erupted in a burst of confetti.
“Oh, Dolly! You shouldn’t have!” The voice belonged to Barry Beagle, holding up a remote. “You walked right into my surprise party for you. Those sound effects got you good, didn’t they?”
I heaved a sigh of relief. No apocalyptic apocalypse. Just a party. It was the strangest of days, but when you’re a beloved Bulldog living in Pawsburg, every day is a boundless adventure. And I wouldn’t trade it for all the hamburgers in the world.
The End.
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