“Hey there, Gemma here, your favorite canine adventurer! Survived another Disaster Tuesday in Pawsburg. The usual, saved townsfolk from rogue waves, wet fur tales, along with Duke and Max. Now craving Tail Wagger’s boiled chicken. Still can’t stand yellow cheese! Oh, the joys of being a local hero! Gem, the Brindle-Storm.”

Listen to the story here

Dawn broke, yet another interesting day in Gemma’s life. The sun painted the sky with streaks of orange. I saw her dart off to Pawsburg, ready to visit her favorite haunts, ear flopping in the wind.

What kind of day was it? Now that I think of it, I reckon it must’ve been a Tuesday. Pawsburg Tuesdays got a certain ring to them, almost as if it was wired for adventure and crystallized mayhem in its finest form.

My paws trudged past the familiar landmarks but my beady eyes sought out new adventures. I brushed past White Westie Woods, observing the subtle change in the autumn fauna. But that wasn’t important, not at the moment when my stomach growled, louder than any timber in the woods.

I approached Pupperoni Pizza, expecting to get a slice of their famed ‘Bolied Chicken Special.’ Listen, I know it seems oddly normal, especially in a dog’s paradise where flavors like rabbit-rage and squirrel-delight top the food chart. But me? I’m a gal of simple tastes.

As I entered, I smelled it – the nemesis I hadn’t reckoned with. Yellow cheese. Can’t stomach it. Can’t even stand the smell. Suddenly, the place seemed less inviting.

I hastily stumbled out. My paws carried me to East Bulldog Bay. Suddenly, the usually tranquil waters roared to life. A rogue wave crashed onto the shoreline, sweeping away everything in its path. The water seeping in everywhere, mayhem ensued. Pawsburg was facing a crisis.

Brindle coat soaking wet and summer-sticky, our Staffordshire Terrier constitution held strong. Duke and Max were with me. Together, we put our dexterity to good use, helping the Pawsburg townsfolk move to higher grounds. We reached North Chihuahua Castle, a safe haven on the tallest hill in Pawsburg.

Once everyone was safe, we made our way back down to the city center. The Howling Husky Hardware Store spared no tool in our rescue mission. Running on adrenaline alone, I could hardly afford to feel weary.

The sun crawled back into the horizon, as we’re so simple. Past the impending disaster, we found resolve. Pawsburg was still standing, albeit wet and somewhat dishevelled.

Gemma, Duke, and Max didn’t need medals, a hero’s badge or a headline. All we needed was the collective sigh of relief, shared amongst Pawsburg residents, wagging tails of gratitude, and, oh, some boiled chicken from Tail Waggers would be lovely too. And just like that, another ‘Disaster Tuesday’ came to an end.

The End.