Hey, it’s Desi, the library-loving, adventure-avoiding Maltipoo. Here’s a quick Pawsburg update: Celebrating a full year of sniffing out stories instead of squirrels. Words are my treats and each page a new adventure. Whiskers says it’s okay to be me. And turns out, I quite like being me. Wagging tails, Des.

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There’s this strange notion that everyone in Pawsburg wakes up to the lark’s song and immediately jumps into adventures. Not me. My name’s Desi — a foot tall, snow-white Maltipoo, who prefers quiet corners in the local library to romps at the Shih Tzu Stadium.

I awoke to the savory aroma of boiled chicken. Agnes, dear old Agnes, cooked especially for my sensitive palate. She bustled around, still half-asleep, her nightgown fluttering like a sail.

I devoured my breakfast, while Agnes grimaced at the offending broccoli on her plate. Honestly, I don’t know how she can even bear the sight of it! Ah, the things humans endure!

Agnes looked at the clock and smirked. “Hurry Desi,” she winked, “you’re going to miss your playdate with Benny and grumpy ol’ Whiskers.”

As I trotted down Best in Show Photography Road that morning, I felt a peculiar mixture of excitement and apprehension. Today marked my one-year anniversary in Pawsburg. I was a yearling, on the cusp of adulthood, no longer that naïve puppy who scampered into the quiet library, entranced by the peaceful silence.

At the library, Benny and Whiskers were humming some nonsense about “another risky game at Choco Chihuahua Castle.” They were forever looking for adventure, those two, something that often left me dazed and confused. How were they so brave?

Benny looked at me, his tail wagging. “Desi, you okay?” he asked, considering my pensive expression.

“Yeah… I mean, no…” I stuttered, feeling an unfamiliar surge of vulnerability. “I just realized it’s been a year since I arrived in Pawsburg and… and… I just don’t feel adventurous like the rest of you.”

There was a moment of silence, awkward and stifling. Then Whiskers, old wise Whiskers, calmly regarded me. “Desi, every dog has their place in this town. Some dogs climb the Lower Silver Siberian Summit, some dogs eat at the Cat’s Meow Sushi, but you, my dear, have given us the gift of calm. You do not need to change who you are to belong. You belong wherever you feel most yourself. In your case, right here in this tranquil library.”

My eyes widened. Whiskers was right. I didn’t need to fit into an adventurous narrative. Pawsburg, my Pawsburg, was nestled snugly in the fairy tales and adventures that unfurled in the pages around me. I was okay being me, the book-loving Maltipoo who preferred the smell of old books to that of The Doggy Bagel Deli’s freshly baked goods.

I felt a warm, tangible sense of relief wash over me. Borrowing my favorite bookmark toy, I curled up with my friends, ready for another day in the life of Desi. Growing up, I surmised, was about finding comfort in who you already were, rather than fitting into the expectations that others had of you. And, with that revelation, I cheerfully embarked on the journey of coming-of-age in the snuggliest library corner of Pawsburg.

The End.

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