“Hey Ma, just your royal furball ruling Spencerville. Still recovering from my cricket toy battles and trading adorable sighs for happiness from apple slices at Paws-a-Latte. Chicken on menu at K9 Kebabs? Big PASS. Learning the ways of being a charming diplomacy-king, you know how it is. Loving my friends Daisy and Willow, but dearly missing the human sibling squad. Every sunset brings promise and bittersweet joy. All is well in the realm, except you’re not here. King Lambeau misses you.”

Listen to the story here

In Spencerville, where collars hold royal worth, I’m Lambeau, shepherd-president of the realm. A German-beagle mix by birth, my reign ensues in the heart of my loyal subjects, frequents of Shih Tzu Stadium, Golden Retriever River, and Upper Collie Canyon.

My chambers, under the sturdy Fig tree in the yard, overlook the bustling town. Inside, a faded, tattered cricket toy aids my leisure hours, offering satisfaction upon each decisive crunch, a feeling quite… quite unwonted. More avenues of pleasure, mind you, awaiting me at the local Paws-a-Latte, not for the beverages, heavens, no! But the apple slices, oh, those titillations upon the tongue, exchange my muted sighs with a palpable happiness.

Now, we do have some dark corners in this otherwise delightful town, like K9 Kebabs and their chicken menu. ‘Tis a place I’d voluntarily shun, for chicken brings me discomfort, a disfavour I politely nurse. Rather have my fangs sink into my worthy cricket, than onto the tasteless filament of those darn birds.

Yet, it’s this peculiar detaste and love for apples that intrigues my subjects, keeps them hooked. Perhaps, it’s my inherent allure, my ability to persuade everyone, dogs and mice alike, to fit into my narrative, who’s to say? My charm, like secret diplomacy, seems to work for the benefit of all.

Then there’s an endearing essence to my existence in Spencerville, and it exists within friendship. Be it Daisy, the beagle next door, or wise old Willow, the golden retriever, each add to my kingly life’s lustrous sheen, along with siblings dearest to my heart, who remain alive in my sorrowful memory.

Thus continues this shepherd’s rule, basking in the glory of Spencerville’s affection and devotion, sustained by humble fig shade, governed by an intrinsic pull towards a toy cricket, and prized by the crunchy delight of apple slices. As sun sets upon my tranquil kingdom, I command my Spencerville with bittersweet joy, knowing that in every sunset there awaits the promise of another splendid day.

I am Lambeau, and this is my reign, my divine sojourn in a perfect world called Spencerville. Awaiting the reunion with my human, living amid the spirituality of nature, and the companionship of like-minded friends, I am, indeed, the crowned pet of Spencerville.

The End.