“Hey there! This is Camry, your favorite pup-bassador from Pawsburg. Just a quick pup-date: we’ve had some green bean aliens move in (which I loathe, by the way). Nevertheless, we’re handling it with our tails wagging. I’ve even swapped Pinky for a bit of diplomacy. Woof to you soon, Cam. 🐾”

Listen to the story here

It was an evening as green as any, and I found myself in the quiet company of Camry. The gleaming white fur-ball was rather preoccupied, prancing around with that absurdly oversized pink bone clenched in her jaws. I discerned a peculiar vigor in her merry tail-swishes tonight, her black eyes merrily shining, laden with an almost unnerving sense of suspense.

“Well, something’s definitely up,” I commented to no one in particular. A hefty sigh followed. Soon enough though, our quaint tranquility was interrupted by a sound I could only liken to the static buzz of an old radio. Glancing upwards, I spotted a ginormous flying saucer, hovering above Pawsburg.

Our jaws dropped, perhaps in synchrony.

“Aliens,” I murmured, rather nonchalantly, as though referring to an unwelcome batch of string cheese at dinnertime. Just then, Max and Molly joined us, their features mirroring the alarm in mine. Roxy, the boisterous boxer, bounced over too, her usual brashness replaced by a mild unease.

As Pawsburg descended into chaos, we made haste towards Beagle Beach. I noticed Camry still had Pinky lodged in her mouth; I suppose infinite pickiness doesn’t spare even alien invasions.

Before long, Pawsburg was swarmed by extraterrestrial beings. Strangely, they resembled our earthly counterparts with rakish charm – green beans. Camry, dropping Pinky for the first time in forever, seemed particularly horrified.

“Well, I never,” she stammered, her normally decisive nose twitching unpredictably.

Over the coming days, we valiantly protected our turf. Camry, despising the green intruders with all the might her minuscule frame could muster, morphed into a vexing furball of raw defiance. The green beans, tired of her relentless resistance, decided to taste the other side of life in Bon Appetit and Chow Down Chow Chow.

So, in their own peculiarly hilarious manner, our furry friends of Pawsburg adapted. The Fetching Feline Pet Emporium even stocked these green creatures, which soon became an exotic pet for the bravest dogs. The green beans reciprocated by imbibing canine culture, growing a particular liking for doggie pools and afternoon naps.

And that’s how our erstwhile uneventful Pawsburg evolved into a bustling hub of the canine-alien life before you, placid as it is peculiar. Yes, Pawsburg, Beagle Beach, and the Bullmastiff Boardwalk—all now frequented by sauntering green beans, outlandishly blending with our everyday cacophony.

Camry, still brandishing Pinky in her mouth, looks at the green beans with a mild distaste but seemingly resigned to their permanence. In her own dainty way, she has made peace with the new normal. So have the rest of us.

And as for me. Well, I’m just here, an old spectator in the alien revolutionised Pawsburg, nursing my nightly drink, occasionally joined by a spotlessly white, pink-bone carrying Pomeranian—bearing witness to the ‘Out of the World’ tales of Pawsburg.

The End.