“Dodged the drop, faced the accuser, enlisted Jim for a daring break out from Paws Prison. Dug under the rain to freedom, kissed by a meatball once home. Full glory, Spencerville’s hero. Long live Russ, the bulldog who broke chains!” -tail wags, HJJ.

Listen to the story here

As dawn broke over the precipice of Upper Black Bulldog Bay, the gentle caw of the Spencerville Sparrows stirred me from my favorite green recliner. The roaring fireplace, now a small smolder, matched the playful twinkle in my eyes. For a dog of distinguished lineage like me, the days usually start with a smile and a hearty game of rip-apart-the-plastic-golf-ball.

Fetching the morning mail was routine, but the arrival of the malevolent mailman–the alien invader in my otherwise serene life–always set off a symphony of barks and howls. Not today, though, the air was heavy with something…different. Rain! The soft cadence of rain drops against the window was enough to drive me to take refuge under my favorite chair.

Then, a dastardly sight awaited me – a letter formally accusing me of causing a ruckus at Fetch-N-Bites, disrupting the feline luncheon. Wrongfully accused, whisked off without a meatball-bribe to my guilty conscience. A bad dream? A cruel prank, perhaps?

I, “Russ the Refined”, of sound mind, stout heart, and ample guts, found myself behind the forlorn fences of The Pawfect Training Center, locally known as the ‘Claws and Paws Correction Facility’. A travesty of justice, indeed.

Escape was necessary, crucial. A life of canine luxury awaited me on the other side; idyllic days of lazy lounging, and the prospect of another savory meatball flying into my bowl. But first, prison break!

Jim, my cunning brother, was on the outside. We barked in code, our language of collusion known only to us. With Jim’s unmatched wit, and my bulldog strength, a plan was formed.

We set my escape for the bleakest, rainiest day. An elaborate trick, a diversion – Jim creating chaos down at the Chow Down Chow Chow while I dug my way out under the unwatchful eyes of the drenched, disgruntled guards.

Nervous energy surged within me but I mustered plucky courage. The raindrops pelted against my burly body, fears of rain transforming into a comforting rhythm for my revolutionary act.

The night fell heavy. One final glance at my prison, I powered through, emerging under the rusty gate of Pawsitively Purrfect Pet Store. Freedom! A hero’s welcome was indeed in order, bathed in the soothing glow of the family room’s resurrected fireplace.

I was home. The sight of Lower Golden Gate Gardens from my favorite chair was triumphant, a victory against the odds. A meatball kiss sealed my redemption. Quiet whispers of the tale – ‘the bulldog prison break’ echoed around Spencerville, forever etching my name, Russ, in the annals of fabled pet glory.

The End.