Hey fam, it’s Mushu, Zinny & Winny! You won’t believe the ruff night we just had. Accused of gnawing art, ended up in Pawsburg Shelter. With a dash of bravery, a sprinkle of comedy, and a plan so wild you’d think Spot came up with it, we did a pet break! Free again in our beloved green playground, under the indigo sky, just in time for dawn. All in a night’s adventure in Pawsburg. Fetch, anyone? Hugs and licks, M,Z & W xoxo

Listen to the story here

The thing about Pawsburg, see, is that it’s a paradise houndified. Think about it. Your beloved humans are away, you’re frolicking about in the lush green Maltese Meadow with your canine comrades under the open blue, fetching squeaky balls and sniffing the tantalizing whiffs wafting away from Paws On The Grill. Imagine a world free from the tyranny of the water hose and the nightmare of squeaky-clean baths…a world where every Roasted Chicken With Thyme And Rosemary was yours. Pure ecstasy, isn’t it?

But then, amidst all this bliss, the unblissful happened. For the first time, I, Mushu the Pug, found my furry self behind bars at the Pawsburg Animal Shelter. Accused of gnawing art pieces at the Furry Friends Art Gallery. Preposterous, don’t you think? I think, therefore it is. Especially pernicious because I have a penchant for fetching, not gnawing.

Things seemed bleak until Lucky trotted in with a peculiar spark in his eyes (incidentally, he maintains that’s his normal look). “Mush,” he whispered, “we’ve got to break you out.”

I’m not usually a fan of breaking things (apart from the silence with my joyous barks), but desperate times, desperate measures and all that. Then there was Spot, that little beagle rascal, who conjured a blooper of a plan involving cream from the Cream Maltese Meadow, a shopping spree at the Doggy Depot, followed by an inconceivably elaborate hocus-pocus at Sniff ‘n’ Snack.

The plan was so eccentric that it might have been just brilliant, or it might have been the recipe for an unprecedented disaster. With a gulp and a little prayer to the squeaky-toy Goddess, we set to work.

As I sneaked, sniffed, and on occasion sashayed across the Summit and through the Meadow, every rustle spiked my heartbeat and every hoot made the precious freedom seem yet another wag of the tail away. But with each passing tick-tock, it seemed less of a ‘pet break’ and more like an adventure, a tale of courage and camaraderie. And trust me, if you ever find yourself in a high-octane chase with guards hot on your tail, there’s no one better to have by your side than a brave shepherd and a clever beagle.

Even in the darkness of the situation, Pawsburg was radiant, the charm and mirth of the town reflected in all its corners and crevices, the misadventures laced with giggles and the annihilated risks followed by a heart-warming tongue-lick victory.

As the dawn approached, I, Mushu, the jovial plump pug, the accused art gnawer, was convincingly innocent and free, panting and gleaming under the indigo sky with my friends. Our journey of the night had turned into a tale worth barking about in Pawsburg, at least until our next escapade. And let me tell you, something tells me it won’t be long. Fetch, anyone?

The End.

Share This Story: