Hey Mom,

Guess who’s The Petfather of Spencerville now? Yep, it’s me, Tanner! Just navigated some shady catnip deals at the bookshop and kept our furry kingdom in check. Don’t worry, the empire’s purring along just fine. Miss you and the two-legged life. Hugs to Dad!

Woofs and wags,
Tanner 🐾✨

In Spencerville, the world was spun from tales of loyalty and whispers of legacy, a town nestled in the embrace of eternity. Me? I’m just Tanner, once a humble dog with trash to scavenge and holes to dig, now they call me The Petfather, though my brow holds no line from wearing crowns. Sit back, as I tell you about a day that’s much like any other, barring the unexpected turns.

It was drizzling that afternoon, moistening the cobblestones of Cream Maltese Meadow, a place where ball chases and frisbee catches were the day’s currency. But business was business, and mine took me to the shadowed steps of Northern Choco Chihuahua Castle, where word on the street was that catnip had started flowing a little too freely.

My paws clicked against the stone, a solemn beat in the hush of the drizzle. I pushed open the door to Paws On The Grill, nodding to the familiar faces. They knew me here, respected me. I got a booth in the back, the leather creaking under my weight, waiting for the informant, a shifty Siamese with ears that heard more than most.

As I waited, the scent of grilled steak and roasted chicken from the kitchens wafted through the air, but I wasn’t here to dine on culinary masterpieces. My mind was on the family, on the empire, and how to keep both out of the claws of chaos.

The Siamese slipped into the seat across from me. “The catnip’s coming from inside The Wagging Tail Bookstore,” she hissed. “The mice are getting bold.”

I digested that. Mice running nip wasn’t good for anyone, throwing off the balance we’d worked hard to maintain. “We’ll take care of it,” I assured, voice calm but with an edge that said it was already done.

I left the grill, my tail curled with decisions to be made, alliances to forge, orders to give. Lilly, my better half, would have counsel on this, her instincts sharper than a pup’s milk teeth.

Back home, Spencer, looking every inch the mayor with his dignified wrinkles and wise eyes, gave me a nod that didn’t need words. I headed for the den where Lilly lay with a book.

“Trouble?” she asked without looking up, her nose twitching with the same intuition that had told me she was the one for me.

“Mice peddling catnip at The Wagging Tail. It’s getting messy,” I growled.

“We’ll clean it up, we always do.” Her voice was soft, but her resolve was steel.

That night, after Lilly and I had laid out our plans, I looked out over the city from the balcony of Fawn Pug Palace. The rain had ceased, leaving the world washed anew. My thoughts strayed to my human family, the ones I’d wait for, no matter the years.

I envisioned their smiles, remembered the feel of grass underfoot and the joy of our games. But those were memories, lovingly stashed away like the prized toys of my youth. Their absence was a pang, but the knowledge of our reunion was a balm that took the edge off the longing.

The night was quiet, but the air was charged with the promises of tomorrow – the seamless dance between leading a family and commanding an empire. With the silhouette of Spencerville against the moonlit sky, I, Tanner, The Petfather, knew one thing for certain – as long as my heart beat, I would protect this place, my empire, my home, until we were all together once again.

The End.