Hey, everyone! It’s me, your favorite four-legged news hound, sniffing out the final scoops of the year!

My curious nose has been extra twitchy lately because the hoomans are acting all sorts of “paws-itive” and “excited-y.”

They keep talking about something called a “New Year,” which sounds to me like a fresh bag of treats that’s just been opened.

CRINKLE CRINKLE! Can you hear it? That’s the sound of potential!

But first, I have a breaking news bulletin regarding a major editorial obstacle in my house.

You see, I am trying to file these important end-of-year reports. Meanwhile, Ma and Dad are completely captured by the glowing rectangle. They are binge-watching Stranger Things on Nap’flix… Let me tell you, the only thing “strange” is why they aren’t paying attention to me!

I’ve tried the “nose-nudge.” I’ve also tried the “soulful-stare” and even the “huff-flop.” They are too busy worrying about “Demo-doggers” and the “Upside Down” to worry about this Very Good Boi. I even tried going upside down myself, to no avail.

Since I’m being professionally ignored, I’ve had to take matters into my own paws to curb the boredom. I’ve launched a full-scale acoustic protest involving my loudest squeaky toys. SQUEAK! SQUEAK-SQUEAK!

It’s the sound of investigative journalism, frendz!

If they’re going to listen to spooky music and monsters growling on the TV, they can listen to my rubber quacker’s siren song. It’s a ruff job, but someone has to keep the house lively while Ma and Dad are in stranger upside down.

Big Ball Drop

Anyway, back to the biggest breaking news event of the season: The Ball Drop.

Now, as a professional journalist, I take “balls” very seriously. Usually, when a ball drops, it’s because I’ve dropped it at Dad’s feet for the 47th time in a row.

But apparently, the whole world watches one giant, shiny ball drop at midnight!

I’ve been doing some investigative sniffing over past few years, and here is my JournoDog report on the New Year’s Eve festivities:m as I’ve come to understand:

  • The Scoop: Hoomans stay up way past my bedtime. They wear sparkly hats typical of what Dad forces me to wear, and count backward. 10… 9… 8…
  • The Act: They look at the Big Rectangle, waiting for the ball to fall.
  • My POV: I always say that if that giant shiny ball actually hits the ground, I am officially claiming it. It’s the “Lombarky Trophy” of New Year’s Eve. Sadly, never works out for me. Still, I’ve been practicing my pounce. If it’s round and it moves, it’s news – and it’s mine!

But in all seriousness, frendz, looking back on this year makes my tail wag so hard I might actually cause a windstorm.

Whether we were sniffing the sniffs in the backyard or finding tail wags in the middle of a ruff day, I’m just so, so, so thankful to have you all on my beat.

As the clock strikes midnight and that big ball finally drops (and hopefully bounces!), I’m making a resolution: More belly rubs, more investigative naps, and absolutely no missing out on stray cheese slices from Ma.

With all of that, I am very much looking forward to 2026 and being able to become an even better JournoDog. I promise to sniff out the stories and dug up scoops (of food), and chew on those toys that need more chews because they won’t squeak the truth enough.

Until next time (in a new year!), or whenever the news beckons like a barking dog you can’t help but pay attention to, #JournoDog out.

As always, remember: Love your dog. Support local journalism. Believe in facts and trust credible sources. And try to smile and find a little happiness for your heart every day.

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