Greetings, my flock. I am writing you from an Internet cafe near Piazza San Marco in Venice, where I have spent the last several days. The Italians have far more progressive views on canine rights than many of us are accustomed to. It is common to see dogs here in bakeries and cafes. I even spoke with a large Weimeraner in a Coin department store. Like me, he was eyeballing the women's lingerie. I asked no questions, and neither did he. So it was a good talk.
Not only are the canines here afforded rights nearly equal to the humans, but they also all seem to wear designer doggy coats -- Prada, Gucci, etc. Had America's inept human ruling class not destroyed the value of the once-mighty dollar, perhaps I would be able to afford such luxuries. Instead, I am forced to wear only my modest turban and gold-encrusted medallion.
A couple of days ago, I toured the Doge's Palace, where I studied the ways of the Venetian aristocracy and government. This should prove most beneficial as we transition to the canine rule of Pugistan. Already, I am drawing up plans for a Grand Inquisitor's Council to investigate treachery and other infidel acts. If you believe you are sufficiently ruthless, you may submit your resume via e-mail.
My Internet time is nearly up, so I must wander on, my flock. Arrivederci, and Allah be with you.