“Yo! Rocked Pawsburg today! Got respect, devourd smoky chicken like a boss at ‘Paws on the Grill’. Gifted kids with squeaky burger, dug up Dad’s long-lost shoe. Endin’ with a lil cuddle sesh with Emily. Being Petfather ain’t easy, but sure as heck is fun. Peace out! – Wally B.”

Listen to the story here

I woke up this morning with an itch for adventure, a desire to take on Pawsburg, as they say. As Mom slid the back door open, I sprinted across the yard, the gentle morning dew doused my paws with a chill. It was my day to be a king and like every good mob boss, I had to start my day with an excellent meal at my favorite joint – ‘Paws On the Grill.’

As I trotted into town, I crossed paths with Missy, the Maltese from across the street, her white coat as pure as fresh snow. “Mornin’, Wally,” she barked, wagging her tail cheerily. She knew well enough to keep a respectful distance from my person; not that I was exactly dangerous, but let’s just say, having a reputation sometimes has its perks in Pawsburg.

At ‘Paws On the Grill’, the tantalizing aroma of smoky chicken wafted up to my nose, promptly making my tail get a life of its own. Tito, the Labrador, tossed me a grilled chicken leg, a knowing smile flashed on his canine features. That’s the good part about running Pawsburg – no waiting. I chomped down on that delicacy, muttering a satisfied ‘Mmm’ as the smoky flavor melted right into my tongue.

Later, I took off to Husky Hill, the ideal spot for some peace and quiet. Yet, peace was the last thing on my mind. The Smith kids – Evan, Tyler, Logan and little Emily – needed a surprise. A secret little gift from their Petfather. At the top of the hill, I found the most beautiful rubbery hamburger toy at the ‘Howling Husky Hardware Store.’ It even came with a surprise squeak. Perfect!

My next stop was Boxer Beach. The soft sand beneath my paws was a delight, but spotting Dad’s missing shoe was even better. I’d buried it there a while ago; he’d be pleased to find it popping out from the sand today.

My adventurous day came to an end, and I had one final stop. Emily’s little pink bed with its soft fluffy covers. She often told me about her dreams of flying. And tonight, she’d find a squeaky hamburger under her pillow, a token from her Petfather.

After the hustle and bustle of the day in Pawsburg, returning home was calming, like the soft ticking sound of a grandfather clock in a silent room. I strolled back into my kingdom, the radiant setting sun setting my fawn coat aglow.

Life as the Petfather of Pawsburg was ruff – but hey, someone’s got to do it. And who better than Pawsburg’s lovable English Bulldog with a heart as big as his appetite for grilled chicken – me, Wally Bear.

The End.