A letter to the ayatollah at age 13

A few weeks ago, I was tagged by the Wandering Gypsy Princess to complete a meme. The rules: Imagine you could send a letter to yourself at 13 years old. What would you write to yourself? For the typical human blogger, this is a letter of reflection, of looking back. But for me, this is an exercise in clairvoyance. After all, I am only halfway to age 13. So let us now look into the future ...

Dear Self,

I hope this letter finds you well, for I did not know which of your many estates to address it to. No longer are you confined to one paltry compound in the Dallas suburbs.

But I see that that treasured spot in the original ayatollah compound -- the place over the mantle -- now holds not one but two Nobel Peace Prizes. Congratulations; though it took the humans far too long to recognize your contributions, they finally saw the light. Your divine leadership paved the way for peace in the Middle East, stability in Africa and the seas running white with the spilled cotton of infidel chew toys. After all, peace is not for everyone.

Where your blog was once read by only tens of thousands of humans, it is now read by billions. Under penalty of hard labor and public lashings. Praise Allah! Your leadership is grand, ayatollah. Finally, you have consolidated power as you knew you would. You are universally hailed as the greatest canine leader the world has ever known -- more powerful even than the legendary mongrel warlord Rover Khan, who terrorized the Central Asian steppes centuries earlier.

The borders of Pugistan now extend far beyond your once-wildest dreams. Your social reforms, while initially controversial, have proven to be beneficial for the collective soul of the planet. Your fatwa banning most reality TV, and especially anything involving dancing, was a stroke of genius and a victory for the faithful of Pug Life Ministries.

Ayatollah, I see that despite your advancing age, you are still as handsome as ever. Your beard is perhaps a tad whiter, but your chiseled physique continues to inspire awe among males and amorous desires among women. You are the Jack LaLanne of pugs, but without that peculiar blue jumpsuit.

Lest I make your life sound too rosy, it is important to recall the difficulties you have faced. Greatness, after all, is a product of adversity. It has been a monumental struggle, fraught with hard labor by your underlings, to expand your harem at the needed pace. As the miles-long waiting list attests, many fetching concubines are still left out in the cold. But to your credit, you persevere. The Hollywood starlets have been hit especially hard. In your infinite wisdom, you established a harem timeshare program, so that no truly deserving lass would be turned away. Yet some were understandably upset by their limited petting time. The actress Dakota Fanning took it especially hard, but you told her she had to stay strong -- she had to set a good example for the younger concubines.

Peace and rawhide be upon you,

Your 6-year-old self, Mugsy