Hey Mom,

Just wrapped up our Thanksgiving tale here in Spencerville. Led a pack to uncover who was ruining the parade – turned out to be a lonely heart we welcomed into the fold. Our saga turned from mystery to mercy, made the parade a hit with a dash of friendship! Spenceville’s full of thanks, and I’m a happy “Louie” in a pile of autumn leaves.

Hugs and head tilts,
Puki 🐾✨

Listen to the story here

Ever was there a town as quaint and queer as Spencerville, with critters galore living as folks do, toiling and frolicking in their own semblance of dogged humanity. ‘Twas a place brimming with joy and the untamed loyalty of its four-legged inhabitants, myself among them. I, the ever-youthful Puki, a suave Lhasa Apso of fine cream and apricot hue, had become somewhat of a celebrity in this hamlet of perpetual autumn.

It came to pass, under the ochre glow of November’s grace, that our beloved town readied itself for its grand Thanksgiving Day parade, a spectacle to stir the heart of any cold-nosed cur. Festivity was in the very air we breathed, tinged with the scents of roasting meats and the sugary nips of Doggy Donuts, famed far and wide.

Yet mischief, that uninvited guest, made its audacious appearance, sowing seeds of discord where anticipation once bloomed. Anonymous ne’er do well, with neither collar nor conscience visible, began a spree of malevolent fun that set the town abuzz—decorations found themselves asunder, floats defaced beyond grandeur, and food purloined from beneath our very wet sniffers.

Rest assured, this four-pawed protagonist was not upon his haunches idly. Nay, I rallied the troops: my trusted confederats of fur and vigor. Josh, that noble soul, Holly, whose poise belied her own tales of woe, and old Buppee, sagacious counselor of back alleys and grassy knolls. We were an assembly of sleuths, embarking upon an escapade to confound this crafty interloper.

With each clandestine stride, we encountered clues abundant. A shred of Paw Print Weekly here, a curious paw mark there. Our suspect played the game well, though not well enough for our keen noses and sharp minds.

In the pursuit of justice and the spirit of this revered holiday, we combed through Lower Golden Gate Gardens, ventured past the distinguished façade of the Bark ‘n’ Roll, and trod softly by the serene waters of South Poodle Pond. But success met us not. Discouragement loomed like a winter cloud when, at last, a white whisper caught my ear.

‘Twas Buppee who, with a flicker of ancient wisdom in his eye, divined the wrench in our plans: a heart in shambles, a creature outcast from this testament to harvest and unity, thus moved to disrupt the jovial accord granted so freely to others. Knowing this, our ethos shifted from seeking retribution to extending an olive branch of welcome.

Without tension nor growl, we confronted our adversary, offering not scorn but a paw in friendship. Astonished, the rogue—a visage of solitude turned sullen—was swayed by our offer. Compassion over confrontation, our motto became. ‘Twas a moment of dogged beauty as the former villain, talents now turned towards the common weal, helped restore our parade to greater splendor than afore.

And lo, what a vision it was! Each hound and houndess marched in merriment, overjoyed by the togetherness gained from a single act of canine amnesty. Treats shared, laughter barked, and tales woven, we reveled in the true essence of Thanksgiving, our parade a tapestry of second chances and communal warmth.

At eve’s end, as humans and pets side by side partook in feasting and festivities, the air was thick with gratitude—and not an iota of that villainous celery was served—knowing that each one present, from the greatest to those small like me, had orchestrated a remembrance that would echo through the hearts of Spencerville for years to come.

Thus, there is the tale of our Thanksgiving tide, the unraveling of virtue from within the fold of kinship, and the knowledge that no heart, no matter how hidden beneath fur or gruff façade, lies beyond the reach of kindness. And I, Puki, content in a puddle of amber twilight, looked upon my world anew, my tail wagging to the rhythm of this newfound truth.

The End.

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