“Hey there, it’s Tink. Went on a wild adventure with Max and Luna today. Stumbled upon a crazy squeaky toy and fish stick world, and even befriended a mean tabby who used frogs’ legs to create a palace! (Yikes, the stuff of nightmares!) Anyway, all bark and no bite in the end. Home now, tail peacefully wagging at Sniff ‘n’ Snack. Life in Pawsburg, always an adventure. Woof to you later. – TinkerB”

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A balmy evening in Pawsburg, full of peculiar amusements if one knew where to look. Taking a brisk trot across Western Fawn Pug Palace, my buddy Max trotting along keeping me company, Luna bobbing dutifully behind us. As one of the city’s more baroque affairs, Pawsburg never blunts the edge of expectation, always bubbling with a swift lick of mischief. Max, as a rather bendy Beagle, would surely vouch for that.

After our customary frolic at Upper Black Bulldog Bay, we decided to take a pitstop at Pawsome Pancakes. Their Sunday special of blueberry flapjacks served with maple syrup is just to bark for. As I contemplated the placemat, the tantalizing bakery-made-from-heaven scent wafting from Chow Hound Café across the street seeped into my senses. Perhaps after the pancakes, I thought – given I’d a frothing curiosity for the world’s mysteries, it wouldn’t hurt to leave a little room for dessert.

“That’s odd,” remarked Luna, her years of hearing acuity sensing something neither Max nor I could, “Do you hear that peculiar squeaking sound? It sounds… frighteningly human-like.” A shudder ran through her tiny frame. Agreeing with a nod and a whiff of apprehension, I led our peculiar trio towards the ominous noise. There it was, glowing amidst the mundanity, encompassing the entire Pawburg alleyway behind Happy Hounds Dog Walking — a tremendous, glowing hoop of blinding, turquoise light.

“So alien, one might pass it for hostile,” Max whined, bravado left somewhere between the pancake stacks and the tantalizing bakery scent. Luna shivered, eyeing the hoop with a morbid curiosity. With a sharp bark that rang through the empty alleyway, I volunteered myself, leaping out of fear’s grim grip and plunging into extraordinary uncertainty.

A world entirely composed of squeaky rubber bone toys and dried fish sticks as trees met my astounded gaze. It was heaven for me, an enthusiasm-gushing mature warrior Pomeranian. It was extraordinary, a taste of paradise, save for the pointy-looking palace made entirely of… frogs’ legs. Oh, the horror! The revulsion seeping beneath my pink-tinged fur, an alien world designed entirely to exploit my one disdain.

Suddenly, who should saunter out of the grotesque palace but the surly tabby, her eyes glowing with a nefarious intent. “Ah, Tinkerbell, we meet again,” she purred, a malicious melody in her tone. I faced her down, channeling all the courage I’d claimed back in Pawsburg. “Well, we always knew frogs’ legs would be your downfall,” she smirked condescendingly. There it was, the reason for the terrifying universe. Revenge. The tabby wished to torment me with a world of my worst nightmares.

To cut a long story short, we were friends by evening. The tabby agreed that creating an entire universe for a slight spat might have been overkill. Back in the Sniff ‘n’ Snack, nursing our egos along with tuna milkshakes, the strange phenomena of that day became no more than a surreal memory. Max chewing a bone at the corner table, I watched Luna flutter anxiously near the restaurant filling music, the unexplainable quirks of paw-kind roaring with life in the heart of Pawsburg. Life indeed was nothing short of a perpetual adventure.

The End.

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