“Hey mom, politics are wild at Fawn Pug Palace! Spent the day squeaky toy scouting, gourmet dining (minus the spinach, of course), dodged the dreaded vacuum and delivery person, and made nightly peace with Kahkseh over our majestic bed. Spencerville is under control, all in a day’s work! Woof to you later! – Mal”

Listen to the story here.

If you think you know politics, you haven’t been to Spencerville. Specifically, the Fawn Pug Palace, the seat of canine power in our town. Reigning from this throne, I, Malchik, an exceptional German Shepherd-Cane Corso blend, rule with both an iron paw and a heart of gold. Remember this: no spinach enters my realm.

Each dawn in Spencerville starts in the same delightful chaos: Squeaky toys echo through the corridors of the palace, their song more beautiful than the sweetest bird chorus. But I have to insist on the best squeak balls and antlers. After all, not any toy is worthy of the Fawn Pug Palace; the lambchops are for our esteemed guests only.

As lord of Fawn Pug Palace, I must supervise the culinary delights too. The household cooks at the Bone Appetit have their work cut out with my gourmet palate and singular dislike for the aforementioned spinach. I have expressly declared ‘All-You-Can-Eat Strawberry Day’ every fortnight, and peanut butter toast features in each morning’s repast. Ah, the privileges of power, they’re as delicious as a succulent chicken drumstick.

Though I’m a ruler to be reckoned with, even I am not above the fear of the looming specters that haunt my reign. The dreaded roar of the vacuum, the ominous touch of rain, the unsettling cries from children…there are threats to my peace aplenty. But fear not—I have my ways. At the sight of the approaching delivery person or the vet, I make a gallant retreat to my private chamber until the menace has passed.

My kingdom retains its harmony only through strategic friendships. Take, for instance, Sinbad, my partner in crime, placed strategically in the Howling Husky Hardware Store. Together we have averted several crises, like the Great Thunderstorm of last spring. Sinbad, my dear fellow, understands that, while I govern the land, there are elements beyond my control: vacuums, rain, and god forbid—the delivery person.

But lo and behold, when the sun descends, and the sky darkens, the Fawn Pug Palace sees another kind of magic. My sister Kahkseh and I ascend the greatest luxury of the realm, the grand bed, drawing curtains over yet another day in Spencerville. All in a day’s work for a canine ruler with gentle jowls and pointed ears. But let us not dwell on bedtime battles; that’s another story for another day.

And so, Spencerville thrives under my reign, a near-perfect place where every dog dreams of. A kingdom not devoid of struggles, but full of love and peanut butter. Until next time, remember: in the name of Malchik, long may he squeak.

The End.