Nobody really remembers the exact moment Sunnytail showed up. Some say he rode in on a sunbeam. Others say he was born from a giggle shared by two best friends. What everyone agrees on is this—when Sunnytail arrived, the village felt brighter.
As a pup, Sunnytail couldn’t sit still. He wiggled through breakfast, spun in circles during stories, and barked in excitement at absolutely everything. He chased butterflies that weren’t there. He laughed when he tumbled. He clapped when the wind rustled the leaves in just the right way.
But Sunnytail’s joy wasn’t just for fun. One day, a heavy cloud settled over the forest. No one played. No one smiled. Even the flowers drooped. Sunnytail tried everything—silly faces, tail flips, even his secret belly-flop trick. Nothing worked.
Then he stopped trying and did what came naturally—he sat beside a crying squirrel and just wagged his tail. Slowly. Steadily. No words. No pressure. Just presence and warmth. The squirrel giggled. Then snorted. Then laughed. Sunnytail barked in celebration and before long, the whole clearing was dancing in the rain.
From that day on, Sunnytail became known not just for joy, but for spreading it where it was needed most. He celebrates scraped knees, welcomes nervous guests, and always throws a "YAY YOU!" party for even the tiniest of triumphs.
He reminds others that joy isn’t just about laughter—it’s about lightness. It’s the sparkle after tears. The bounce after falling. The sunshine in-between moments that makes everything feel a little more magical.
And whenever someone says, “It’s just a small thing,” Sunnytail is already halfway through a cartwheel shouting,
“Small things are the best things!”
