This is Fruitycake. Secrets. We all have them. Some are good secrets. Like Girl Person’s secret recipe for hot chocolate.
I know dogs can’t have chocolate. Don’t worry!
But I also know that she makes it every year around this time. And well, she’s never told anyone her recipe.
It’s. That. Good. That’s a good secret.
Some secrets aren’t so good. Like things you want to forget. I say forget those secrets. No one cares about it. And you shouldn’t either.
But I have a secret I’m only sharing with a few. Including you. That is the secret of Stick Island.
You see, I’ve been a bit lost since Brickle passed away. And I’m not as confident. I get scared easily. I don’t even trust most people. But on Stick Island, I am the King.
The King of Stick Island.
I can bark as loud and as long as I want to on this mountain in this Italy place. No one can hear me. And at the bottom of my waterfall, Stick Island waits for no man. But it does wait for one dog. Me.
There are sticks piled up. Yes. They are surrounded by water. My arch enemy.
But. If I make it across that water, Stick Island promises all the sticks I could ever bite. All the sticks I could ever want. It’s my island. And I can say who comes on it.
You are invited.
Do you have an island? A place where you feel confident? A place where you make your own decisions and rule the world? You should.
Confidence is hard to attain. Sometimes you have to travel far and wide. But your island awaits.
If I can make it to Stick Island, you can make it to yours. What would it be called? Can I come?
–Fruitycake
