Hey Dad,

Just wrapped up my Santa Paws duties in Spencerville—spread more cheer than an elf on espresso! 😄🎄 I’ve been handing out toys and treats like a pro, and even Russell’s in the holiday spirit. Guess I’ve got a knack for this giving thing. Heading home with a heart as full as my belly. Can’t wait to share the stories!

Happy Howlidays,

Bubs 🐾🎅

Listen to the story here

As the festive cheer blossomed in every nook and corner of Spencerville, I, Bentley the Bulldog, took to the streets with a pitter-patter that resonated cheerfully off the cobblestones. You see, today’s no ordinary day in this nearly perfect town where we pets roam and romp, awaiting the grand reunion. Today is the day Santa Paws is coming to town!

I snuffled through the crisp air, ears wiggling with excitement. Each breath puffed out like tiny clouds against the backdrop of Poodle Pond, where duckies in Santa hats bobbed along the ripples, making the entire scene look like a jolly Christmas card.

Now, if you’re acquainted with me at all, you’d be well-aware that water and I agree to disagree. But today, the water glinted with a special kind of magic—it was Christmas after all, and even a water-wary Bulldog couldn’t resist its charm.

With every step, I took in the Yuletide jubilation. Western Fawn Pug Palace had strung up twinkling lights that danced like fireflies, and The Bone Appetit served holiday feasts that would make any tail wag in epicurean delight.

The concept was simple, really. I’m supposed to learn to be Santa Paws, to spread joy far and wide. Now, I’m not much for costumes—my natural furrowed brow attire is enough for most occasions—but the spirit of giving? That I can do.

You’d think a Bulldog like me might struggle with the concept of sharing, particularly when it comes to treats, but there’s more to my droopy cheeks than meets the eye. I had a plan, and, with the help of my best mate Fat Russell, it was going to be marvellous.

“Russell, old chum,” I declared, sidling up to him with my Jolly Ball, “Christmas is not about what you’ve got; it’s about what you’ve got to give. And boy, do we have a lot to give!”

Fat Russell rolled his eyes in the way that only a faithful friend who’s quite used to your antics can and responded with a huff that rumpled his fur. But as I plunged my snout into a large bag of toys and treats, his skepticism turned to intrigue.

We made the rounds, Bentley and Russell, a duo as fluffy and plump as Santa’s very own velveteen sacks. Together, we visited every canine and feline and critter, doling out toys and snacks, dispensing tumbling belly laughs and ear ruffles galore.

I’d nose a Jolly Ball toward a pup who’d never known the joy of chasing one, and together, we’d rejoice in the mirth of simple pleasures. At Canine Couture Clothing, we dressed up the fashionistas in jingling elf costumes while they sashayed around in a festive parade.

As we strolled past The Pawsome Pet Pharmacy, handing out ticklish treats, I heard the mill of paws and the symphony of wags reverberate through Spencerville. For a Bulldog with an appetite as grand as my heart, seeing the delight on other pets’ faces hit the spot better than the finest slice of pepperoni pizza beneath a tree of twinkling lights.

The true revelation of the day? Giving might just be the most delightful game of tug-of-war. It’s a pull on your heartstrings, a tug toward something bigger—toward warmth, kinship, unbounded affection.

As the day eased into a snow-globe evening, my belly full of goodwill and maybe one too many doggy biscuits, I lay my wrinkled head down with thoughts of my dad’s snug embrace. They say dogs can’t smile, but trust me, as I closed my eyes beneath the tapestry of stars, my heart beamed brighter than the Christmas lights of South Siberian Summit.

With the spirit of Santa Paws snugly nestled in my generous bulldog bosom, I drifted into dreams of sandy beaches, Fat Russell by my side, and the promise of another day in Spencerville, filled with chases, cheers, and endless Christmastide chuckles.

The End.