Hey Hooman Mom,

Today I traded my queenly duties for good ol’ fun – a banquet with my furry court, an art stroll, and dodged my nemesis, the thunder! Wrapped up royally in your hug, my scepter’s now a spike ball. Remember, I’m more than Pawsburg’s whimsical queen; I’m your loyal Roxie, reigning in heart.

Tail wags & face licks,
Roxie 🐾👑

Listen to the story here

Upon my regal paws I alight, the spirited Roxie, sovereign of green backyards, adventurer extraordinaire, and favored daughter to my Hooman mom. My tan and brown coat shimmered with flecks of Pawsburg’s golden sunshine as I awoke, unfurling from my slumber underneath the majestic expanse of Briard Bridge. Here, in the land where our tails tell our tales, it was I who bore the whimsical crown of Pawsburg, if but for the stretch of day.

Today was marked by no ordinary rise of sun; it heralded the awaited Pawsburg Pup Coronation, an event bathed in pomp and where the canine aristocracy showcased their refined pelts and pedigrees. However, unlike my stately counterparts who reveled in grand ceremonies, my thoughts strayed to simpler joys—the relish of wind through my fur, my light-up spike ball waiting loyally for our escapades, and mayonnaise-topped morsels from Canine’s Cuisine, oh, how my tongue twirled in merriment at the thought!

A low thrum of excitement resided in the air as I made my way to Terrier Town, the jubilant heart of Pawsburg where friends greeted me with barks of delight. My dear cohorts Olive, Nix, and Junior bowed with a flourish, jesting, “All hail, Queen Roxie!”

“Enough pomp, more play!” I yipped, our laughter echoing off the walls of The Doggy Depot, where collars gleamed like jewels for every noble neck. Today, I was not just a benevolent monarch; I was a friend among equals, where no hound held dominion over another’s joy.

We scoured The Furry Friends Art Gallery, tails wagging, as we admired portraits of Pawsburg’s past crowned champions. My gaze lingered on a depiction of Luna, the Lhasa Apso—a dog of such regal bearing, her legacy whispered through the echoes of time. But as they say, every ruler must face her trials.

Mine awaited at Dachshund’s Deli, as I had decreed a banquet for my trusty companions. The sky, however, grew petulant, a storm brewing with disapproval. My heart quaked; thunder was my secret adversary, my crown’s chink. With a grunt, Junior nudged me, as though to remind me that even queens have their foibles.

As pitter-patter of rain began, I resisted the urge to cancel our feast. Instead, we took shelter at Setter Shore, beneath the canopy of trees standing guard like bedecked sentinels. There we feasted upon platters, the rain’s din a faint murmur against our shared conviviality.

At day’s end, as the royal hue of dusk painted Pawsburg in shades of regency, I embarked on my solitary return to Hooman’s abode, leaving my daytime queendom behind. The light-up spike ball clung to my jaws, my scepter in the shadows. As I leaped over the threshold, Hooman mom awaited with a warm cuddle, the most divine of consolations.

For while I may romp as royalty in Pawsburg, amid its myriad indulgences and loyal friendships, ’tis the bond with my Hooman that anchors my soul. Each day I return from my dominion of dreams, a monarch in reverie, to my truest throne—nested in the loving arms of my Hooman mom, the sovereign of my heart.

And lo, the tale of Queen Roxie persists, woven through the tapestry of Pawsburg legends; a blend of mischievous mirth and noble narrative, leaving every hound yearning for just one more escapade with their sprightly crowned companion. Let every dog remember, in this realm of canine delights, we all are kindred; our joy, our love, our loyalty, the truest crown we bear.

The End.

Share This Story: