Hey there, it’s me, Berry! Just a quick update from Pawsburg – we thwarted an alien dog invasion over the weekend with rubber ducks and fetch. Yep, you heard that right, ducks and fetch saved the day, and even Tippy had to join the game! She’s still grumpy about it (typical Tippy). All’s well though, dancing and celebrating at The Pooch Playhouse tonight.

Barks and Wags, Berry 🐾

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Ah, one night in Pawsburg, the infamous canine haven, I, Berry, petite and plucky, with my usual retinue of Thor and Hazel and my shadow, Tippy the cat, were grabbing a nibble at the Fetch-N-Bites, when our peaceful night was disrupted. It was a night that turned our lives topsy-turvy, making us forget about our famous chicken livers and replacing our appetite with the unknown.

“That’s not a shooting star,” Tippy proclaimed, her feline eyes squinting upwards into the inkiness, aversion for unknown speculative mice of the sky clear as day. Yet, a shooting star it surely was not. A teal spaceship, emblazoned with symbols as unsubtle as mustard on a rubber duck, was descending upon Pawsburg, landing with a resounding thud at the Brown Boxer Beach.

I remember the ground shaking, almost like one of those excruciatingly loud squeaks my favourite duck toy would release – but this was different, this was an invasion. The invasion of the Greyhound ships from the far-off Shepherd Skyline galaxy. Skyline, I thought? A tad uninspired, but then again, we were dealing with aliens.

We, the knights of Pawsburg, had always seen adventure, but an alien encounter! It was outrageous! More preposterous than a mushroom in my food bowl. But legends were made in such ways, and by the duck’s squeak, Berry was not backing down.

Bounding towards the alien mothership, the Golden Retriever Thor shook off his fear, charming Hazel called upon her wit, and Tippy…Tippy did what she does best. She fluffed her fur out to double her size, aiming for ignorance-fuelled intimidation. I followed, my eyes as sharp as a freshly baked biscuit from The Woofy Bakery.

The aliens were not the skeletal, blood-curdling, vindictive species that the scuttlebutt often suggested. They looked, in fact, a lot like us. Dogs, just taller, furrier, with triangular antennas on their heads and more glowing.

Eventually, it wasn’t a battle of claws and teeth, but one of fetch and squeaky toys. They seemed to love our multicolored rubber ducks and we used it, throwing them further and further, sending the aliens scampering towards the sea, their paws splashing about till they hit their ships and squealed off back to the Shepherd Skyline galaxy. It was a sight; the epitome of laughter and definitely a grand adventure.

And so it was that a pack of animals from Pawsburg thwarted an alien invasion, utilizing the unbeatable power of play. That night, we celebrated our victory of the Greyhound Grove to the Sound of The Pooch Playhouse, our tails waging in sync with the pulsing music. But one can never forget the time when even Tippy had to play ‘fetch’ all for the safety of our beloved haven. Oh, what a tale it was! She still hisses whenever we all chuckle about it.

The End.

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