“Hey Pops! Pawsburg’s off the charts, night mischief rules! Fat Herm’s the hot cake now, thanks to his love 4 chicken, hate 4 broccoli. He’s a pup of wonders, bossing over hearts! Ended the night with a promise of more adventures, no sign of slowing down. – Woofin’ Out, Herm”

Listen to the story here.

If you think Pawsburg is a regular town, then you’re sorely mistaken. This place is a haven for our fur-covered buddies, where they escape in the middle of the night, ditching their humans to frolic in the moonlight. Trust me, the golden streets of Pawsburg have seen more tails wagging than you’d believe.

As your narrator, I have to tell you about my friend, Fat Herm, a Bulldog who could win brownie points even from Grumpy Cat. English Bulldog, mind you – purebred and absolutely adorable. Sporting that distinctive fawn fur that resembled a pruny bath towel. Herm’s as charming as they come. If could bottle that charm and sell it, I’d eclipse eau-de-cologne business!

So, in typical Pawsburg style, tonight, our broad-chested buddy strolled through the Upper Black Bulldog Bay, his favorite haunt, apart from Chihuahua Castle and Beagle Beach. The moon cast shimmers on the water, promising a night of adventure. He had plans, and by plans, I mean the all-dog party at Pupperoni Pizza.

As we snuck into Pupperoni’s back door, Herm nudged me, his brown eyes glinting, he whispered, “You see that, pal? That’s grilled chicken. Heavenly!” He practically danced around, forgetting all about his usually stoic demeanor, excited as a pup on Christmas morning. But the night took a nosedive when he spotted a bowl of broccoli at the next table.

Herm recoiled, hissing, “Blech! That’s green horror show!” He made a face, his wrinkles deepening, bidding goodbye to our under-the-radar operation.

Attracting quite an attention, dogs from all around started laughing their tails off. And there, Fat Herm became a comedian, unintentionally.

After Pupperoni, we decided to hit The Pawfect Training Center, where he gnawed on his chew toy boldly, like a boxer practicing punches. His performance was followed by rounds of awestruck mutts wooing over Herm’s charm.

Before I knew it, Fat Herm, the sturdy bulldog, had cracked this town wide open, mastering the art of laughter.

We ended our night with a promise – more moonlit adventures amidst the canine-noir of Pawsburg. And though he drew the short straw with that problematic broccoli, Herm was true sunshine in the heart of Pawsburg, where every puppy is the hero of its own laugh-out-loud saga.

As dawn brightened, Fat Herm’s charm had etched another chapter onto the bark of Pawsburg. A tale of a dog’s life I shall never forget; reminding me while Pawsburg may be a peculiar place, the friendships made here, were simply top-dog.

The End.