adjusts visor, stares into an empty vault Week 1 at the DAWG Pound, and the raid never happened — no adventurers, no tee shots, no chains rattling under the Lawrence County lights. September 10th came and went with the baskets standing guard over absolutely nobody, no weather excuse to hide behind, just an empty campus course and a scoreboard that's still a pristine, untouched blank. There's no fallen heroes to eulogize here, no returning champions to call out for skipping the keep — this is Week 1, the origin chapter, and right now the roster is still lacing up its boots somewhere off-screen. Consider this the prologue: no loot claimed, no dragons slain, just a quiet dungeon waiting for its first party to wander in and start the legend properly.

Creek Crossing — Week 2

The DAWG Pound isn't done with you yet — same hills, same hostile terrain, but the second station is bringing water into the equation, with a rain-swollen creek slicing through the fairways and wind kicking up as the afternoon clouds roll in. Whoever finally shows up will find the bridge between holes 7 and 8 turning into the new social hub for soaked shoes and bruised egos, and rumor has it someone's already found an antique disc wedged in the creek bank, stamped with a mysterious "sixth station" that's never appeared in any league map. Since exactly zero players tested their water discipline this week, that thread stays gloriously unresolved — nobody drowned a disc, nobody triumphed over the creek, because nobody triumphed over anything. Registration for Week 2 is open now, so grab your raid party and don't leave the dragon waiting twice.

The dragon claims another disc in the drink — except this week the dragon didn't even have to work for it, because I practiced my water-hazard swim moves for absolutely nothing while the DAWG Pound stayed bone dry of players.