Hey family,

Guess who’s the unofficial king of Spencerville’s canine kingdom? Yup, it’s me, Gordon – the beagle with more titles than you can shake a stick at! Turns out I’m not just your average pup, I oversee the Best in Show photography ops, ribbon cuttings, and even mediate over marrow bone accords. Don’t worry, there’s still time for a good sniff and a snack between royal duties. Wait until I tell you about the Bark Shak’s new extension… all the tall dogs are raving about it! Miss you all and keep those belly rubs on hold ’til I see you.

Paws and peace,
Roberto Gordon Gau – we called him Gordon (but you can call me Chickie!) 🐾👑

There are days when one awakens in Spencerville with the distinct feeling that something is decidedly off. It’s the sort of morning that prompts a reflective beagle, such as myself, Roberto Gordon Gau—universally known as Gordon—to contemplate the curious ebb and flow of our peculiar existence.

In the grand tapestry of Spencerville, I’ve been woven in rather regally, if I do say so myself. You see, after my rather unceremonious arrival at this nearly perfect town—a place where pets live posthumously with vim and vigor—I found myself unwittingly crowned as the uncrowned monarch of Upper Collie Canyon. An honorary position, of course, given our proclivity for democracy and a healthy disdain for hierarchies. Yet, such a sovereign role suits me more than my snug winter vestments.

My reign began on a morning quite like this one—overcast with a smattering of sunlight pushing through just enough to bathe Northern Choco Chihuahua Castle in a light that made you believe in magic. Cede and Lexi, my trusted basset hound advisors, lay perched on velvet cushions scrutinizing the daily proceedings with torpid interest, while Abby, Emma, and Quincy—the beagle brigade and my secretariat of sniffs—patrol the Canyon, their noses orchestrating the security of the realm.

To the untrained eye, Spencerville is a utopia governed by the relentless pursuit of pleasure and the avoidance of the accursed vacuum cleaner. But I digress, for even in Spencerville, matters of the state do encroach upon the bliss.

Today’s agenda includes ribbon-cutting at The Bark Shak, its refurbishment now complete with an extension for taller breeds. Being a beagle of some repute, my presence is desired like a chew toy at puppy’s first day home. With my royal escort, we depart, making our way past the Best in Show Photography, where the cameras seem to covet a snap of my regal bandana, to The Wagging Tail Bookstore, their display seductively arranged with biographies and volumes on the secret lives of toys—they know my pink hedgehog’s tale would make quite the read.

I must say, the culinary underbelly of Spencerville, with establishments such as the Pup ‘n’ Go Taco Joint and Dog-gone Good BBQ, propels my soul into a gastronomic ballet. Perhaps a pint-sized feast to calm the spirits?

Yet a monarch’s job is to witness and behold, not solely to snack and sniff—though one partakes where one can. My sartorial duties have afforded me a wisdom behind these big brown eyes. I’ve seen alliances made over marrow bones and treaties signed with a wag of the tail. I understand the value of a calm disposition, which serves me well save for the clang of dish against dish, a bath being drawn, or the rumble of thunder.

In amidst this resplendent circus of existence lies the tranquil truth. My service to Spencerville is but a prelude, a second act in anticipation of my grand reunion with the ones who knew me as their own. Until then, I am Gordon—arbiter of order, sniff-master general, and occasionally, lovingly stubborn sovereign—a beacon of beagle-ness in a world crafted for the enduring spirits of pets like me.

And though my days may be punctuated by snacking, the unpredictable weather, and staunch avoidance of strawberries, my twilight howls are always hopeful. For Spencerville is not an end but a whimsical hiatus—a place where legendary tails wag on, and where I, majestic in my tricolored coat, am both subject and ruler in this furry fiefdom.

The End.