49

Spacey Adventures

id

Pixel, a small, black and white Boston Terrier, no more than ten pounds soaking wet, with an attitude large enough to give any Great Dane a run for its money, and Rosie, a monstrously oversized white retriever who believed she was no larger than her pint-sized friend, found themselves on a bright afternoon, staring up at a towering object of gleaming metal. They had heard about the concept of “up” before — squirrels loved it, birds were fans — but this “up” seemed more… spacey.

Pixie, as she had taken to calling herself, felt the urge to survey the new territory, her small form an embodiment of sass and boundless energy. She trotted towards the spaceship, her small black and white form a stark contrast against the immense structure. Rosie, the quintessential gentle giant, was content to sit and watch, her tongue hanging lazily out of the side of her mouth, an expression of sheer joy etched onto her face.

At the controls of the spacecraft, and when I say ‘controls’, I mean a modified doggy treat dispenser with a joystick attached, stood an alien named Zal. The Zalians, an advanced species from a far-off galaxy, had accidentally discovered robotics and gravity-control when attempting to build a better food-dish for their canine companions. Now, they were using the technology to communicate with them. Furry communication, as it was known, had flooded the Galactic Inter-System Communication Channels. Zal was here to record a new episode of the series, but instead, he found himself stuck with Pixel and Rosie.

“Alright, Pixel. You’re the smaller specimen. Perhaps you’ll understand the food lever?” Zal eyed the little dog from across the room. Pixel cocked her head to one side, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Rosie gnawed happily on a squeaky alien toy that looked suspiciously like Zal’s cousin.

“Fine, Rosie, will you engage in scientific discourse?” Zal pleaded. Rosie, hearing her name, perked up and wagged her tail while looking hopelessly around to find the source of the voice.

Zal let out a long sigh and glanced back at Pixel who was, to his amazement, maneuvering the joystick on the dog treat dispenser. With a delighted bark, Pixel had started the engine sequence and the spaceship lurched suddenly, sending Zal sprawled across the shiny floor.

In no time at all, they were spiralling out of the Earth’s atmosphere, the spaceship effectively being steered by a small and sassy Boston Terrier named Pixel, while a big, goofy retriever named Rosie gnawed joyously on a Zalian squeaky toy.

Enter whimsy. Enter hilarity. Enter two Earth dogs inadvertently wreaking mild chaos on interstellar comm-channels. Rosie’s tail thwacked a critical button, and soon Earth’s most popular music blasted across the cosmic web. Dog scientists from across twelve galaxies switched afraid, confused, and in some cases, intrigued gaze upon Earth, wondering about the superior taste of our K9 companions.

Back on Earth, house owners experienced a collective panic as they rushed home to find a Boston terrier and a retriever missing, and two groovy dog-collars lying suspiciously close to a flattened patch of grass.

In space, Pixel, with her sassy canine instincts, perceived the urgency of her actions, and with a swift maneuver of the joystick, she aimed the spaceship towards Earth. Thus, began their journey back, guided by edible treats, while Zalian scientists across the universe scratched their Xoglon equivalent of heads, contemplating the gravity and implications of their Furry communication experiment gone awry. And somewhere, across the vast cosmic web, a civilization of hyper-intelligent cats saw an opportunity to even the score.

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What happens next?

Mild to Wild

1 = Keep it simple10 = Let's get wild

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