Hey fam, it’s Molls! Just a quick check-in from Pawsburg. Juggling kibble politics, defending from postal intruders, and sampling haute canine cuisine fills my days. The St. Bernard crown is a weighty one, but from Snooty Snout to Happy Hounds, I’m making strides for dogkind. Every sunset is a victory, every bone stew, a blessing. Catch you all at the next squirrel chase – Mollie 🐾

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The spectral hues of sunset are emerging again, painting the canvas of the sky in Pawsburg. Here I am, Mollie, your humble St Bernard, more politically correctly, the Crowned Dog of Pawsburg, sprawled elegantly in verdant parables of Pug Palace’s backyard, contemplating the complexities of a dog’s life.

Spectating over Upper Black Bulldog Bay under the fading sun provides a restorative solitude, my friends. It’s a respite from the political drama and negotiations of the day. How does one describe Pawsburg politics to an outsider? It is interesting, yet wears you down.

My friends and compatriots, Charlie and Ginger, they know – they see the torrid pace, the intensity of Pawsburg. See, both understand how a game of fetch at South Siberian Summit can turn into a diplomatic armistice, negotiated between running out of breath and exhilarated barks. But, what they don’t get is the mailmen – the enemy of the state. The letters, those incessant bangs! They were never a pawgrabbing symphony to my ears.

Gastronomically, ah! The dog’s life in Pawsburg chills and heats like the Pupperoni Pizza. Unpredictable, yet satisfying to the bone. Speaking of bones, Bone Appetit’s bone stew – it’s my Netflix without a chill, it’s my diplomatic sweet-spot, the rapport builder. Anyone in Pawsburg knows one way to ease into a difficult discussion with me is to place a simmering bowl of bone stew in front. They get it. But the broccoli from The Barkery, it’s a diplomatic faux-pas.

After a meandering political day, as dusk folds, you can find me bedecked in fineries from The Tail Wagger’s Tailor, making appearances at the Snooty Snout Boutique or orchestrating a conversation at Happy Hounds Dog Walking. These places, these are my soapboxes, my pulpit, where the voice of Mollie, the Crowned Dog of Pawsburg, holds the audience in rapture.

Life is a whirlwind here in Pawsburg, an ether of endless negotiations and melodrama. Amidst the political cacophony and gastronomic adventures, this has been my sanctuary, a place where I gallop, play, negotiate, and reign. And so, as Aaron Sorkin would write – every day is a new day, every negotiation a new challenge, every bone stew, a sweet victory. Every mailman, well, let’s leave that for another day!

I continue to tell the tale of life in Pawsburg, connecting the dots, enacting the drama, sharing the laughter, all part and parcel for a dog like me, Mollie, the Crowned Dog of Pawsburg.

The End.

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