Hey Mom, it’s your Wriggles reporting from Spencerville, doggy heaven like none other. Met Glennie, Rusty, and Leigh here, they say hi! Jaw-droppingly beautiful with Northern Choco Chihuahua Castle, Golden Gate Gardens, and Yellow Tan Dalmatian Desert. Treats have never tasted better – they’ve got pizza and scrambled eggs. Who knew?! My Kong is now brand new, straight from Howling Husky Hardware Store. There’s hardly a moment without some good soul giving me ear scratches and how can I forget, Yappy Yogurt, the best ice cream this side of eternity! Pawsitively enchanting. Just living the dream. Missing you a ton, but don’t worry, I am in the best of paws. ~ Wrigley Roo.

I’d never seen anything like Spencerville before. A place so perfect, it seemed like every dog’s wildest dream, and here I was: Wrigley, the tall mixed-breed with a blocky head and the world’s goofiest smile. And the place? It was as astounding as rumors said. The Northern Choco Chihuahua Castle towered mammoth-like in the distance, Golden Gate Gardens over there glittered splendidly under the sunlight, and the vastness of the Yellow Tan Dalmatian Desert… well, that was something to behold on its own.

First on my itinerary was the Howling Husky Hardware Store because, and just between you and me, my Kong needed replacing. I had conquered its squeaker, extracted with victorious zeal. Now it was a hollow relic of a toy, devoid of its former character. Not to wash my own bone or anything, but as an intelligentsia member, I deserved the best.

Leisurely trotting around town, stopping occasionally for a customary ear scratch (a luxury that passersby felt compelled to offer, thanks to my contagious charm), I spotted Bone Appetit. Lunch beckoned, and the mouth-watering aroma conjured tantalizing visions of peanut butter popcorn and cheesy pizza. I made a mental note to get an order of their egg special later, those rumored ‘Eggs a la Bark.’

Finding myself at Bow Wow Bistro, I wondered if their version of scrambled eggs topped that of Bone Appetit. It was my culinary duty to find out. And before I knew it, I found myself, under the auspices of food love, jumping into an impromptu food crawl.

By evening, having eaten more pizza and eggs than any self-respecting dog would care to admit, I found Yappy Yogurt. For dessert, why not? Here I was caught in the hustle and bustle of Spencerville, a place estranged from squalling vacuums and feared baths, with ice cream so smooth that I suddenly had the audacity to believe that I owned the world.

In the midst of my indulgence, who should I find sidling up next to me but my buddies, Glennie and Rusty. As friendly a pair of souls as any, and Leigh, my, that girl knew how to tell a joke. I told them, “You know in heaven, every meal is breakfast pizza and scrambled eggs, right?” Their laughs bounded around the town. Oh, to be alive, or rather, to be post-alive in Spencerville.

Because even if we missed our people, we knew they would find us here too, eventually. And until then, we had each other, we had the sun, we had the best food: we had every dog’s dream. My life had been pretty much the best a dog could ask for, so heaven shouldn’t have surprised me this much. But Spencerville… it was beyond even my wildly optimistic expectations.

The End.

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