Hey Dad,

Just saved Spencerville from Clawdius casting an eternal night! Your lessons paid off—I faced fears, matched wits & brawn with a sinister cat, and emerged victorious. Missing your belly rubs but feeling your pride. Spencerville’s safe, I’m a hero, and it’s nap time under my victory tree. 🐾

Brute

I never thought it would come to this, me, Brutus, with my brindle coat gleaming under the relentless march of the sun, standing at the very gates of Lower Golden Gate Gardens with the fate of Spencerville resting on my broad shoulders. It wasn’t about chasing Frisbees or the aroma of fresh popcorn that brought me here. No, this time it was something bigger. The villain they whispered about—a sinister feline by the name of Clawdius—threatened the very fabric of our world.

The wind carried rumors, each one more desperate than the last. They spoke of Clawdius and his plan to cast an eternal shadow over Spencerville, turning our days into an unending gloom. I squinted against the brightness of our town, unwilling to imagine it any other way.

I met with the council at The Howling Husky Hardware Store, our gathering place when turmoil broached our borders. The loyal faces of my companions, dogs of every breed and creed, nodded solemnly at my arrival. We knew the stakes; dad would’ve been proud of me.

“Brutus,” a Golden Lab named Archer began, “You’ve got spunk and muscle. We’ve seen you turn the tide at Spotted Red Beagle Beach when the gulls tried to take over last spring. Clawdius needs to be stopped, and, well, you might be our only hope.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. I knew I had to act, even though my heart pounded a rhythm of hesitation against my ribs.

I troted out of the hardware store with the weight of Spencerville on my back. But I was Brutus Bulldog, and if there was anything Dad taught me, it was never to back down from a fight, especially one that mattered. I passed Yappy Yogurt, where the dessert brought families together in laughter and licks, and headed toward the outskirts where Clawdius was rumored to be plotting his next move.

The journey wasn’t easy. There were obstacles that could have sent a lesser dog back to Paws On The Grill with its tail between its legs. Forced to reconcile with my fears—cats being the least of them—I walked on, determined to reach Fawn Cream Maltese Meadow by nightfall.

When I did arrive, the meadow was still and quiet, as though the very air held its breath. And then I saw him, a shadow among the blades of grass. Clawdius. I padded forward, my paws steady, and my mind set.

“Brutus Bulldog,” Clawdius hissed, his voice a cruel purr, “Do you really think you stand a chance against me?”

“We’ll never let you win,” I growled, feeling the aggression bubble within me. The fire in my belly warmed, steeled me against the villain before me.

We stood there in standoff, the hero and the villain, before the clash began. Clawdius was fast, but I had strength and gusto on my side. We matched paw for paw, claw against teeth, until, with a well-timed charge, I sent him tumbling toward Bark ‘n’ Roll.

Defeated, he vowed to return, but not this day. Spencerville was safe once again, and I, Brutus, returned to the Howling Husky amidst a chorus of cheers. The sun set on Lower Golden Gate Gardens, and as it did, I found a spot under a tree, closed my eyes, and dreamt of Dad. For in my heart, I knew one day we’d play tag in the endless meadows and he’d rub my belly as he always did.

Maybe it wasn’t popcorn, but this victory tasted just as sweet.

The End.