“Hey Mom and Dad, just another day in the life of your ‘Bear Cub’ here. From playing ambassador on our walks around Golden Gate Gardens, scoring fish treats at K9 Kebabs, to binging soap operas with Princess Victoria, life is grand! Love, Vincent the royal chaos king”

Listen to the story here

I was awakened, as usual, not by the blaring horns of my high-tech Alexa, but by the melodious drool of my sweetheart, Vincent, whose joyous tongue slaps could easily be mistaken for the soothing ocean waves that he detests. His kingly aura glowing in the golden morning light seeping through our bedroom bay window, instantly turning my groggy morning into an artisanal Pinterest postcard.

“Ah, Vinnie, you got ‘charming wakeup’ down pat,” I groaned, reaching for the usual 170-pound heavy, but irresistibly cute, alarm clock that was Vincent.

The ritual that began the day was reaffirmed as I laced up my sneakers for our leisurely stroll around the well-groomed lawns of Lower Golden Gate Gardens. Vincent, his excited tail threatening to overturn every designer item in the red-brick lane house, stood by the door, preparing to be the most loyal ambassador Spencerville ever witnessed.

His surprising elegance comes to life on our walks, his head high and his freckled coat shimmering under the Spencerville sun. He trots around like he’s canvassing for the ‘Best Dog in Spencerville’ award, while his selective seafood diet has got more votes than any paw-litician.

Of course, with the royalty status also comes the quirks, the hilariously infuriating Valentine-Orson-Welles-like idiosyncrasies. Like how he sprints if there’s even a hint of the beach or the countryside. Or his subjective starvation where he can turn from ‘diplomatic-hunger-strike for better treaties’ to ‘werewolf-hunting-for-moonlit-prey’ if he hears so much as a whisper of the mythic words: fish treat.

As we continued our daily kingdom inspections, we strolled along the shining docks of Golden Retriever River towards our favorite haunt, K9 Kebabs, where Chef Furry works his wonders with salmon and sardines. The culinary delight in Vincent’s eyes, that twinkle as he savored the succulent treat offered by the Chef – it’s more potent than any critic’s review.

Despite the grandeur of his life and his sophisticated palate, the true joy for Vincent lies in his relationship with Princess Victoria. His partner in crime, his confidante, his sister from another mister, who rescued him whenever his pranks turned against him. It’s like watching the ultimate pet soap opera!

After the overwhelmingly productive day, Vincent, Victoria, and I huddled on our couch, their content snores only slightly drowning out the episodes of ‘The Crown.’ I looked at his peaceful face, resting on my lap, the magnificent, stubborn, loyal, pickle-loving, pasta-hating beast. His majesty’s life might be filled with its moments of drama, but would I trade it for anything else? Hell, no! He is all the royal chaos my life needs.

‘One day closer, Vinnie, one day closer to our Spencerville reunion,’ I whispered into his droopy ears, knowing that our bond was the foundation of his felicitous life here, his very essence of existence, making every day truly worthy of a royal pet.

The End.

Share This Story: