“Hey Hooman! Spent the day chasing my tail between Pampered Pooch Salon, the Art Gallery, and Pup-Tastic Pizza. Even pulled my celery joke at dinner. Laughed my paws off! Night ends with stargazing at Lower Golden Gate. Can’t beat a day in Pawsburg, hold the celery! Woofs, Wally Bear.”

Listen to the story here

From behind the lick-and-polished oak counter of the Canine Cafe, I watched as Wally Bear lumbered through the door. His smoky white and gray speckled coat stood in sharp contrast to the golden sun setting on Pawsburg. His broad splayed paws thumping against the wooden floors, setting the day’s rhythm. For the rest of us, it meant one thing: it was time for the ceremonial event that has punctuated our lives here in Pawsburg.

First on the list, a quick bowl of anti-water spray from Pampered Pooch Salon; it could quieten even the nastiest of water nemesis. Both Wally and I shivered at the chilly bite of the bottle. Partly because of the cold toweling it necessitated; mostly because it tasted nothing like juicy grilled chicken.

Next stop, the Furry Friends Art Gallery. The folks here knew Wally inside out and had on display an array of glorious rubber duck paintings. Wally drooled at his nemesis-turned-companion portrayed in different heroic situations. “Ya got one with it tangled in celery stalks?” Wally quipped. The very thought of it had him in fits of giggles. It was his attempt at humor every visit. And every visit they’d be ready with a smile and a ‘see ya tomorrow Wally’.

Our much-anticipated pit stop was Pup-Tastic Pizza for Wally’s dinner, and mine. Wally placed his order. “Large, thin crust grilled chicken. Hold the celery.” The chef, in on the joke, winked back. Back at our table, Wally’s tail wagged out a drum roll. His waiting game bordered on comical patience. Wally loved the suspense. As for me, I’d settled in for the warmth, and the company.

Night was enveloping Pawsburg as we strolled to Lower Golden Gate Gardens. Wally loved ambling through its glowing trails. His sights set on the flickering stars, one could almost see a twinkle reflecting in his eyes. Reflecting dreams of an adventure at Silver Siberian Summit or a chase with twitchy squirrels.

Through the lit windows, Wally’s house on Oakwood Lane lay waiting for him. And, so did our story here. Another night in Pawsburg, another day with Wally Bear. Tomorrow promised more. More jokes, more laughter, more companionship, and of course, more ‘hold the celery’. This roguish bulldog, well, he’d dog-eared my heart.

The End.