Tales of Tails

Tales of Tails Contact information, map and directions, contact form, opening hours, services, ratings, photos, videos and announcements from Tales of Tails, Digital creator, 181 Brookview Place, Stony Plain, AB.

Here at Tales of Tails, we share our furry friends' heartfelt, hilarious, and heroic journeys from rescued souls who found their forever homes to loyal companions who left pawprints on our hearts.

When your coworker says “I got this,” but opens a fish video instead of the report.🐾 "No, Carl, I said Excel... not ex-s...
07/17/2025

When your coworker says “I got this,” but opens a fish video instead of the report.
🐾 "No, Carl, I said Excel... not ex-salmon!"

07/16/2025

"The Great Invisible Enemy"

In the peaceful land of Couch-topia, lived a mighty warrior: Sir Fluffington the Brave, a small cream-colored kitten with the heart of a lion and the fluff of a cloud.

One day, while patrolling the living room jungle, Sir Fluffington spotted it…
An ancient enemy… feared by all kittens…

The Evil Tail.

It struck again! Whipping around behind him, taunting him, mocking his every move.

With a fierce battle cry — “mrrrreeeow!” — he spun, pounced, and tackled the enemy.

But alas… the tail vanished. Moved! Teleported behind him again.

Sir Fluffington attacked with all his might — flips, flops, back kicks, even a sneak attack from the side.
Still, the tail survived.

Finally, after three minutes of intense combat, he paused, panting, glaring at the camera like:

“Human. Stop filming and call for backup.”

He then fell over dramatically, as all heroes do, letting the enemy live another day.

But he will be back.
For vengeance.

"The Day Heroes Wore Yellow"The fire had started just past dawn — a crackle in the silence, a whisper of smoke in the co...
07/14/2025

"The Day Heroes Wore Yellow"

The fire had started just past dawn — a crackle in the silence, a whisper of smoke in the cold air that turned into a roaring inferno within minutes. By the time the call came in, most of the town was still asleep.

Station 9 was the closest. Firefighters Marco and Luis had been partners for nearly a decade, brothers in every way but blood. They’d faced collapsing buildings, raging forest fires, and floods that swallowed streets whole — but this call felt different. As they raced through the backroads toward a crumbling farmhouse on the edge of town, dispatch had barely choked out the last words:

“The family's out… but they said their animals… they’re still inside.”

The smoke was thick, the sky choked gray with ash. The old farmhouse groaned and hissed as flames devoured the wood. There were no cries, no barks. Just silence.

But Marco heard it — a faint scratching, then a yelp.

He didn’t hesitate.

Inside the collapsing house, he found them. A shivering orange cat with burnt whiskers curled beside a trembling mutt with wide, glassy eyes. He scooped them both into his arms. In another room, Luis discovered three dogs huddled together under a scorched table, their eyes reflecting the flames. One was already limping, another soaking wet and coughing.

There was no time. The roof was buckling. But the brothers carried them all — one cat and four dogs — back through the blaze, back through heat that peeled paint from trucks and sweat from their skin.

They emerged as the second floor caved in behind them. The house, now nothing more than a skeleton of beams and flame, roared one last time before surrendering to the fire.

Photographers and reporters arrived hours later. The picture they took — two men, soot-streaked and silent, clutching the lives they had just saved — would circle the globe.

But the heroes didn’t stay to pose.

They stayed to wash the ash off matted fur, to bandage tiny paws, to whisper, “You’re okay now” to the frightened creatures they carried out of hell.

Because that day, the heroes wore yellow.

And they saved those who couldn’t ask for help — but needed it the most.

“The Bed We All Built”📸🐶🐱🐹💤 In a quiet little town, there was a dog named Max who once belonged to a boy named Leo. M...
07/12/2025

“The Bed We All Built”
📸🐶🐱🐹💤

In a quiet little town, there was a dog named Max who once belonged to a boy named Leo. Max and Leo were inseparable, growing up side by side. But as life sometimes writes stories with unexpected chapters, Leo grew sick, and one autumn morning… he was gone.

Max waited by the door for weeks.

People said Max wouldn’t survive the sadness.

But then came Sunny — a ginger tabby cat who had been abandoned near the edge of town. She didn’t say much (cats don’t), but she curled beside Max one night as he lay shivering in the cold. And Max didn’t move. Not because he didn’t care, but because he understood… Sunny was broken too.

Days turned into weeks. One rainy evening, they found a tiny kitten, barely alive, meowing behind a trash bin. Max gently carried her home. Sunny cleaned her fur. They named her Luna.

Then came Peanut, a chubby guinea pig someone left in a shoebox by the gate. Max sniffed him. Sunny hissed. But Luna squeaked in joy, and so Peanut stayed.

They didn’t share blood, but they shared scars. They didn’t come from the same place, but they built the same home — one made of warmth, patience, and quiet understanding.

This photo was taken one lazy Sunday morning. It wasn’t staged. It wasn’t posed. Just love — raw, simple, honest.

They say healing takes time. Sometimes, it takes family.
Even if that family comes with fur, paws, whiskers, and tiny squeaks.

🧡 If this touched your heart, leave a ❤️ for Max, Sunny, Luna, and Peanut.
👇 Share this story and remind someone: family isn’t always who you’re born with — it’s who never leaves your side.

Le Chat de la PhilosophieIn a quiet café tucked between two cobblestone alleys of Montmartre, a cat named Jean-Pawl Sart...
07/10/2025

Le Chat de la Philosophie

In a quiet café tucked between two cobblestone alleys of Montmartre, a cat named Jean-Pawl Sartre was having what he described as an “existential morning.”

Clad in a black turtleneck and a beret slightly tilted to the left — not for style, but to show his disdain for symmetry — Jean-Pawl sat at his usual corner table, reading À la recherche du temps perdu. He claimed he only read Proust ironically, but he secretly cried at least once every chapter.

With one paw, he gripped a cigarette (he didn’t smoke, he just liked how it made him look misunderstood), while the other delicately turned a page. His Americano sat untouched. Not because he didn’t like it, but because he was waiting for the coffee to become cold — like his heart had been since his ex, Madame Whiskérine, ran off with a golden retriever named Pierre.

Occasionally, he’d glance at the tourists walking by, judging them with the piercing eyes of someone who’d once licked a philosophy professor’s foot out of protest during a postmodernist lecture. He believed that true art was found in disdain, caffeine, and deeply unnecessary ennui.

A waiter came by. “Monsieur Sartre, would you like a croissant?”

Jean-Pawl did not look up. He merely whispered, “Existence is pain. But yes, warm it up.”

And so, another day passed in the poetic misery of a cat who thought too much, smoked too little, and believed that breakfast was a metaphor for life’s fleeting pleasures.

The other cats in the alley just called him “that weirdo in the hat.”

06/30/2025

Have a good day, friends. Trying to take a selfie with the gang.

🕯 "No One Noticed... But He Did." 🕯📖 A Tale from the Streets – for “Tales of Tails”People passed by. Every day.Some in s...
06/25/2025

🕯 "No One Noticed... But He Did." 🕯
📖 A Tale from the Streets – for “Tales of Tails”

People passed by. Every day.
Some in suits, some in heels.
Some laughed, some hurried.
But no one ever looked.
Except him.

His name was Ben, once a carpenter with rough hands but a gentle heart.
Life wasn’t kind. A fire took his home. Illness took his wife.
And the world?
The world took everything else.

He had no one.
No family. No friends.
No pillow—except a piece of sack.
No shelter—except the sky.

But then came Babu.

A stray. Ragged. Muddy. Forgotten.
Just like Ben.
He didn’t ask for food.
He didn’t bark for attention.
He just laid beside him…
And stayed.

Day after day, Babu guarded him like royalty.
He’d growl at strangers, bark at the cold,
And when Ben coughed from hunger,
Babu would nuzzle closer, offering warmth no blanket could give.

People still passed by.
Some laughed. Some looked away.
But if you looked closely—
you’d see a dog’s eyes that spoke a thousand words:
“He matters. He is loved. He is not alone.”

Ben may not have had a roof…
But in Babu, he found a home.

And on the day Ben closed his eyes for the last time,
Babu didn’t whimper.
He simply lay by his side,
loyal to the end.

They say dogs don’t understand loss.
But if you had seen him that day…
you’d know that’s not true.

💔 Some angels have wings. Others have paws.
Let’s not wait to notice the people who feel invisible…
and the animals who never leave their side.






06/24/2025

I got over 700 reactions on one of my posts last week! Thanks everyone for your support! 🎉

📖 A Box, A Baby, A Sister, and A Dog: The Tale of Hope Left BehindIn the cold back alley of a forgotten city, where tras...
06/19/2025

📖 A Box, A Baby, A Sister, and A Dog: The Tale of Hope Left Behind

In the cold back alley of a forgotten city, where trash lines the walls and silence screams louder than words, there sits a little girl no older than six. Her name is Lia.

She holds tightly to her baby brother, Eli—fast asleep in her arms, his tiny breaths barely rising against the filth-stained onesie he’s worn for days. They have no bed, only a torn cardboard box. Their mother vanished one night, promising to return with food… but she never did.

Days turned to weeks. Hunger became normal. Tears stopped falling.

But they were never truly alone.

Beside them sits Rusty—a stray dog who became their silent guardian. He never left. When the nights grew colder, he curled around them. When rats came near, he growled them away. When Lia cried, he pressed his head against her chest, as if to say, “You still have me.”

Lia no longer waits for her mother. She knows better now. But each time she sees a pair of shoes walk past, hope rises in her eyes... and breaks again when no one stops.

No one, except you.

You stopped. You saw.

This is not just a photo. It’s a scream for help. For every child left behind. For every dog that stayed behind when the humans ran. For every soul waiting, not for miracles—but for kindness.

💔 Will you be the one who doesn’t just scroll?

✨ If this touched your heart, please LIKE, COMMENT, and SHARE. Let's make sure their story is SEEN. Let’s make sure no child, no animal, no heart is left behind again.

“The Rain Doesn’t Hide the Tears” He once had a name.But now, no one calls it anymore.Every droplet of rain that hit his...
06/16/2025

“The Rain Doesn’t Hide the Tears”



He once had a name.

But now, no one calls it anymore.

Every droplet of rain that hit his soaked fur reminded him he was still alive — but just barely. He sat chained to a crumbling wall, not out of punishment, but abandonment.

His name was Toby. He used to sleep on a child's bed, his ears twitching with every giggle. He once ran across fields, barking with joy as his tiny human threw a ball just out of reach. He wasn't just a pet — he was family.

Until one day, they left. No note. No food. Just silence.

Toby waited.

A day passed. Then two. Hunger gnawed at his belly, but hope gnawed deeper. He still believed they’d come back.

Then the rain came.

Cold, merciless, endless.

Still, Toby waited.

Until one morning, he stopped barking. He stopped wagging. He sat quietly in the corner, rain pouring, heart broken. Not because of the chain around his neck — but the one that used to be around their hearts. The one they broke.

And yet, even now, he hasn’t given up.

You can see it in his eyes — that tiny flicker of hope that someone, anyone, might still care. That maybe, his story isn’t over.

Will you be the one to prove him right?

💔 SHARE this story if it moved you.
🐾 COMMENT “We see you, Toby,” to show he matters.
❤️ FOLLOW Tales of Tails for more stories of the unheard, the unseen… the ones still waiting.

Let’s make sure no dog waits alone in the rain again.

゚viralシ

Not Just a Dog—A Father, A WarriorIn a forgotten alley behind crumbling walls, a family of strays found a fragile sense ...
06/14/2025

Not Just a Dog—A Father, A Warrior

In a forgotten alley behind crumbling walls, a family of strays found a fragile sense of home. The mother, gentle and scarred, had just given birth to two tiny pups. Their eyes barely open, their hearts knew only warmth—her warmth—and the towering figure that stood guard each night.

His name was Rocco.

Once abandoned himself, Rocco had roamed the streets alone for years. But when he met her—Luna—everything changed. They weren’t just surviving anymore. They had something worth fighting for.

And today, he would fight.

The metallic sound of a cage clinking shut echoed down the alley. Two men approached. One carried a rusted trap, the other a rope. They weren't here to help. They were here to steal. Luna whimpered and pulled the pups closer to her trembling body.

But Rocco didn’t back down.

With a deep, guttural growl, he placed himself between the men and his family. Teeth bared, eyes locked, his body quaked with rage. He wasn’t just a dog anymore—he was a father. And they had made a terrible mistake.

One man stepped forward.

Rocco lunged—not to bite, but to warn. To scream "You will not touch them."

The men hesitated. One looked into Rocco’s eyes and saw something terrifying—not violence, but love. A love so deep, he knew he'd never win against it.

Sometimes, the fiercest warriors wear fur. And sometimes, the loudest “No” is spoken without words.

They backed off.

Rocco didn’t move until the men were gone.

That night, Luna licked his tired face as the pups snuggled between their parents. They were safe—for now. But Rocco would keep standing. Every day. Every night.

For love.

🐾 Rocco’s courage is a reminder: Love isn’t just soft—it’s fierce, protective, and unbreakable.

📢 If this story moved you, follow Tales of Tails for more real, raw, and powerful stories of our four-legged heroes.
💬 Tell us in the comments—what would you do to protect those you love?
❤️

“The Price of Being Forgotten”He once had a name.He once had a home.He once ran on four strong legs, chasing butterflies...
06/13/2025

“The Price of Being Forgotten”

He once had a name.
He once had a home.
He once ran on four strong legs, chasing butterflies under the sun.

But now… he lays in a torn cardboard box, on the cold, filthy concrete—silent, blind, and alone.

We named him Kumo—which means "cloud"—because that’s how he lives now: drifting unnoticed, fragile, and fading.

Kumo didn’t lose his sight overnight.
It started with a small infection in one eye. It could’ve been treated. Just a few drops of medicine… just a bit of care.
But no one came.
Days turned into weeks. The infection spread. The pain grew unbearable. Until one day… darkness took over completely.

Then came the wound.

A deep cut on his front paw from stepping on broken glass. Nothing big at first. But the flies came. The rot followed. And still—no help. The infection spread through his leg until it had to die before he did.

So now, Kumo survives on three trembling legs. His body is skin and bone, but his heart… oh, it still beats with hope.

Hope that someone will stop and see him.
Hope that someone will care enough to change his story.

💔 He didn’t deserve this. No animal does.
He wasn’t born broken—he was made this way… by neglect.

📣 If his story touches you, don’t look away.
💬 Comment "You’re not invisible, Kumo."
🔁 Share to remind the world that animals feel pain too.
❤️ Follow Tales of Tails to stand for those who suffer in silence.

Let’s turn Kumo’s pain into purpose.
Let’s make his suffering mean something.

Because sometimes, the smallest stories can shake the biggest hearts.

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181 Brookview Place
Stony Plain, AB
T7Z2X7

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