“Hey Ma, Dad, it’s Bruce. Lovin’ the life here in Spencerville, zipping through space and making pawsome pals. I still miss my fave Milk-Bone Mochaccinos from home tho, but I’ve found a Pup-Peroni restaurant. Sure hit the nose spot! P.S. Dad, your gloves are with me. A cosmic comfort. Whiskers & Woofs, Bruce the Bully.”

Ah, allow me to reminisce about our beloved Mr. Bruce! Just as he was the highlight of our home, Mr. Bruce was indeed the talk of the town in Spencerville, too. How could one forget him? No one could.

One must wonder how life in Spencerville would be for him. Well, Mr. Bruce adapted with aplomb. Instead of riding in cars, he mastered interstellar crafts, navigating through the cosmos to visit his friends. His usual trek to the local dog park had been replaced with strolls through the grandeur of alien forests, planets cloaked in emerald, and perhaps a game of fetch in the Milky ‘Bark’ Way. His scar, an insignia of bravery, held a hypnotic allure for all in a land where everyone were runts, mutts or top class breeds.

Under the glow of multicolour stars, Mr. Bruce was popular at the ‘Paws-A-Latte’ café. He’d recline, slurping a Milk-Bone Mochaccino, basking in admiration, whereas his sensitive nose navigated to his favourite Pup-Peroni restaurant where a juicy ‘extraterrestrial’ steak and special ‘McDogNalds’ burgers were a must. Friends remember how he would wrinkle his nose disdainfully at the sight of cheap, processed meats, and would let passed any dish with even a hint of vegetables.

Ah, yes! His friends! I see you remember them too. They were a veritable band of misfits, just like in the humans’ realm. Russell the fearless Retriever, Spencer the sassy Spaniel, Albert the Alfalfa-tubbie alien dog, and of course, Ollie Bob the bouncing Boxer. Together they formed a tight-knit group that shared the most intimate cosmic dreams, and escapades, Spencerville being their playground. I hear tell of the Corgi Castle that was Mr. Bruce’s most loved hangout spot – who’d have thought our adventure-averse, little bulldog would one day gambol around a castle, fair LyL Dot by his side?

And what of his disdains, you ask? Just as he loathed loud sounds in our world, the ear-deafening cosmic winds tested Mr. Bruce’s patience. But brave as he was, he sought solace in the stillness of the Woof and Whisker Wellness Center, rejuvenating both his body and spirit. And let’s not forget his aversion to water games and swimming; the galactic voyager preferred to keep his paws firmly on the ground or inside a hovering spacecraft.

Yet, amidst all this, his heart clung to a treasured piece of home – Dad’s red suede welding gloves. It was akin to a teleportation device that comforted, offering solace by transferring fond memories from our world to his new interstellar dwelling. A way to find home, a soothing reminder that he never traveled alone.

Spencerville indeed must be a town of dreams, from our dear Mr. Bruce’s escapades. It’s reassuring to imagine him, with his plump, content face looking up at multicolored skies, waiting momentarily for the day we’d join him in his adventures. At least now, he can enjoy the grandeur of the cosmos filled with endless adventure, while we cherish his vivid memories, awaiting our grand reunion. Because, as the legend tells it, everyone reunites in Spencerville, eventually.

The End.

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