Hey Mom,

Crazy update: I just lived a real-life “Nutcracker Pup” tale in Spencerville! Was a prince, led a magical Christmas dance with living toys, and even found some K9 Kebabs 😂. Back to being Ellie now, curled up among the pressies. This pup’s got stories for days!

Festive wags,
Ellie 🎄🐾✨

Listen to the story here

As the cold December winds sung a chilly carol through the eaves of Spencerville, the frosty windows at Shepherd Skyline glittered with the promise of Christmas. I remember it clear as a fresh water spring, for it was the eve of such a grand holiday, and there I was, Ellie, nestled ‘mongst a heap of presents, still as a painting, wrapped in ribbons — for I had been a gift myself once, a lively pup in a box, surprise and delight for a little girl’s heart.

Now, here in Spencerville, I was known as a bit of an old soul, sure-footed as a mountain goat, with an adventurous spirit to match my bright-eyed look. One blue, one brown — windows to a keen mind, some say. And as the clock tower toward Brindle Brown Boxer Beach struck the witching hour, little did I know my paws would soon tread the hallowed grounds of a magical world.

I recall the precise moment — the chime of midnight and a twinkling so peculiar, I thought for an instant the stars were getting themselves all rearranged. The blue ribbon tighter ’round my neck unfurled on its own, a spectacle to behold, and my paws, where were they now? Suddenly, dance floor beneath and no longer sitting, I was standing — standing upright as a preacher on Sunday.

A thin veil of moonlight wove its silvery splash across our sitting room, and behold — the toy soldiers and gingerbread houses, all life-sized and abuzz! I turned about swift, to catch a glimpse of my own frame and, by the tail of the great Shepherd himself, there stood I, a prince of a pup! Blue rubber ball now shimmering scepter in paw.

Just then, the girl — her name in my heart, though never spoken — gazed upon me with wonder. Oh, how her eyes lit brighter than full-bloomed fireworks over Brindle Beach!

“Ladies and gents!” I spoke, without knowing whence the words came. “A feast awaits us at The Doggy Bagel Deli, merry and gay, with K9 Kebabs aplenty, and nary a banana to dismay!”

The girl clapped her dainty hands, music sprang forth, and our feet, they moved like leaves on a blustery autumn day. Off we spun to Lower Golden Gate Gardens, where a palace of ice gleamed like diamonds. The trees hummed with countless jingling bells, and the air smelled of spice and everything nice — certainly no peppery pepperoni was spared.

We twirled and tangoed, fox-trotted and frolicked among dignitaries of Spencerville’s finest four-legged folk. Baxter bopped, and Luna leaped; even old Max and Bella came bounding ’bout, gaily wagging behind.

Yet, the girl — she knew, as all do here, that our revels would end with the dawn. For in Spencerville, we wait, our tails wagging ever so gently, for that beautiful reunion morn. We lived our legend, one frolic, one feast, one magical Christmas dance at a time.

As the first blush of day brightened the ice palace walls, I felt the enchantment gently dip like a leaf on a tranquil pond. With a smile and a bow, I returned the girl’s gaze one last time.

“Fair thee well,” I bade, as I faded ‘neath the ribbons once more. And there I rested, once a dog, once a prince, ever Ellie, among the echoes of a Spencerville Christmas, tucked in the loving tale of The Nutcracker Pup.

The End.

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