Hey Mom! 🐾 Just helped my human friend find their way home after getting lost in the park. I nudged them with my snout right to the path! Feeling like a very good girl today. Little hero on four paws signing off. 🐶 Love, Cloe 🌟

I suppose you’re wondering how a Shih Tzu-Schnauzer ended up piloting a starship in the cosmos. Believe me, sometimes I wonder the same thing myself. One minute I’m lounging in the backyard, basking in the sun, and the next, I’m wearing an intergalactic blazer with a badge that says “Guardog” on it. But that’s Spencerville for you—full of surprises.

My name is Cloe, and Spencerville had been my proverbial doggy pile of chew toys. Now, don’t get me wrong, I miss Mom like a squirrel misses a nut in the off-season, but here in Spencerville, they’ve got places like Fawn Pug Palace where they practically hand-feed you Pup-Tastic Pizza by the paw. It’s almost enough to distract me from saving the galaxy… almost.

We Guardogs operate out of our starship affectionately known as “The Lamb Chop,” named after my favorite toy and not because any of us resemble edible mutton. The Lamb Chop is as sleek and multi-colored as my fur, which I suspect Spencerville’s top mechanics didn’t do by accident. Our mission: save planets, rescue critters in distress, and make the universe as fuzzy-friendly as the best cuddles I had with my mom back on Earth.

Our base of operations is well-stocked, thanks to Happy Hounds Dog Walking and The Wagging Tail Bookstore. You’d think a bookshop was a strange place for a dog, but they’ve got all sorts of tomes on universal harmony, belly rub economics, and “Advanced Treat Getting for the Terminally Adorable.” I was leafing through one such manual when Astro—the Dalmatian with spots like stars—zoomed in excitedly.

“Hey Cloe, you’d better suit up,” he barked. “There’s a distress howl coming from Planet Pawtropolis!”

Now, curious as I am, I didn’t ask at the time why they named a planet after paws or tropolises. The cosmos is a funny place. Instead, I jumped into the command chair, recalibrated our course, and soon we were warp-speeding through the spacelines like a pup with its head out the car window.

Upon arrival, we found Pawtropolis under siege by the nefarious Feline Federation. Now, I’ve got nothing against cats, really, but these fellas play dirty, swiping at the galaxy’s peace with their retractable claws and fur balls of chaos. My playful and affectionate demeanor had no room for such feline folly.

As we hovered above the besieged world, I heard Astro murmur, “So, what’s the plan, Commander Cloe?” I might be energetic and loyal, but no one said being a Guardog leader was all about tail wagging and kibble tasting.

“Deploy the K9 Peace Shield!” I declared, tapping into my intelligent and brave side. “Let’s fetch those Felines into a basket of negotiations.”

Deploying the K9 Peace Shield involved rallying an army of virtual squirrels projected straight into the Feline mothership. Distracted by the digital critters, the Federation’s grip on Pawtropolis slackened. Once calmer, negotiations took place at The Groom Room, a planet-neutral facility where the Felines couldn’t resist a bit of pampering. Treats and justice for all!

Astro and I headed back to Spencerville victorious, with the Lamb Chop sailing smoothly through space. As I headed towards Pooched Potatoes for a celebratory pie (they offer incredible paw-made crusts), I took a moment to appreciate that nearly perfect place known as Spencerville—a haven until that cosmic day I could nuzzle under Mom’s chin once more.

But until then, the galaxy needs its Guardogs, and I, Cloe, am always ready to save the day with a curious wiggle of my nose and an enthusiastic bark framing my loyal, yet slightly mischievous grin.