Hey Mom,

Just had to share – I’ve turned into quite the Christmas commander this season! Sasha and I led the town’s pets in a decorating frenzy, transforming my house into a winter woof-derland. Roscoe’s pillow topped our tree, my furry symphony of friends captured the judges’ hearts, and beyond winning, we united Spencerville with more love and warmth than a sunbeam on a napping spot. Love truly is the best ornament!

Hugs and tail wags,
BLUE 🐾🎄

Listen to the story here

Well, now, I reckon it was ’bout the first chill of December when Spencerville got itself all wrapped up in the festive spirit, like a pup in a new blanket. An announcement had made its way down to Collie Canyon and up to Bullmastiff Boardwalk, and even drifted over the waves at Boxer Beach. The word was out – there’d be a Christmas decoration contest, and all the humans with their loyal four-legged shadows were invited to join.

‘Twas then I found myself pondering, under the robust shade of the big ol’ tree in the backyard, how I might lend a paw to the humans of my heart. The thought of winnin’ such a competition brought a spark to my eyes, for it promised a chance to bring ’em the cheer they deserved, not to mention it’d be a finer tale than any squirrel chase I’d embarked upon.

With Sasha the Chihuahua by my side, nimble as a jingle bell and twice as tinkling with excitement, we got to conspiring. “Blue, dear friend,” she begun, “a winnin’ display’s one that twinkles brighter than the star on the Christmas tree. And you, with your brindle stripes, ought to be at the fore of our grand plan.”

So, we sent word through the grapevine, to every pup and kitten in Spencerville, callin’ upon their help to deck the halls and the house and even the humans, if they’d sit still long enough. The news sped faster than a hound on the scent, and by sunset, the grand decorating brigade had gathered outside my abode.

The air was crisp as a fresh dug bone, and the stars above whispered of snow. Now, doggy paws ain’t made for hangin’ wreaths, mind you, but we had spirit enough to make up for our lack of thumbs. In the hubbub of it all, there was Molly the Mastiff, all a hustle with garlands as thick as her neck; there were terriers tanglin’ with tinsel, and poodles prancin’ ’round, pinnin’ lights that’d make your eyes marvel.

I took to orchestratin’ the ensemble, with Sasha dashin’ ’bout handin’ out bows and collars, each as jolly as the next. We had them twinklin’ lights strung up ’round the porch, ‘long the fence, and up the roof; made it look like the house itself was ready to leap up and join the dance of the Northern Lights.

But the masterpiece was, without doubt, the Christmas tree. Up it went, tall as the tales of my chicken and mash prowess, and the ornaments? Well, they were as storied as the pets of Spencerville themselves. There was the tennis ball from the championship match at Pawsome Pancakes and the frisbee caught mid-flight outside The Bone Appetit. Every trimmin’ had its history, and together, they sang of unity and joy.

And at the top, my dear sibling’s pillow-toy, made to look like Roscoe. It seemed he was there, watchin’ over our hullabaloo, bouncin’ his approval in the soft glow of the season.

When all was aglow, and the last bow sat atop the final bough, we summoned our humans with a symphony of barks and mews. The looks on their faces, why, it was as priceless as the juiciest bone unearthed from the deepest hole. The wonder, the laughter – it was all there, and the love? Oh, it wrapped ’round us tighter than the ribbons we’d strung.

Well, I needn’t tell you we won that contest, for when the judges came ’round, they found not just decoration, but a whole community’s heart strung up on display. But more’n that, we’d brought the humans together, tighter than a pack of wintering wolves, and the warmth of that victory was enough to keep the coldest of season’s nights at bay.

As I nestled into my spot on the couch that night, the house quiet but for the cracklin’ hearth, I thought how Spencerville never ceased to amaze me. For here, it ain’t just about waitin’ for reunion; it’s about living memories anew, making every moment count like it’s your last fetch of the ball.

And Sasha, that little scrap of canine delight, curled up by my paws, said it best in her small, fierce voice: “Blue, we’ve done more than decorate; we’ve painted love across the canvas of their hearts.”

And with that, I drifted to dreams, Roscoe’s pillow beneath my head, the sounds of a joyful season hummin’ in my ears, and a sense of peace, deep and profound as the silence of falling snow.

The End.