- Dog Tales
- July 19, 2023
Clovis PawWord Story
Hey Mom, it’s Clovie. You won’t believe the wild day I’ve had. I was framed for a Lamington theft at Lady Puggington’s tea party! Imagining me at a tea party, funny right? Dreams of grub from Kibble Cuisine are what kept my courage high as I endured the “Big Unruly”.
Gilbert and Zelda, our pals, hatched an impressive breakout plan, and guess what? We did it! We’re now famous as the ‘Spencerville Break’ squad. Oh and the Lamington thief? Vanilla. Yep, that posh poodle.
Anyway, eagerly waiting now for your delicious dinners, no tea parties for me! Can’t wait to hear about your day.
Woofs,
Clovie
There I stood, gazing at the somber structure – a fortress for the wrongfully accused. The Spencerville Animal Shelter – or as locals say, ‘the Big Unruly,’ supposed institution of compassion, now posing an intense challenge. Perhaps it’s time I give you a touch of context. I’m Clovis, remember? An English Bulldog, all brindle and broad snout, who wouldn’t say no to grub from the Kibble Cuisine or the occasional toy from the Fetching Feline Pet Emporium.
The problem at hand, though, was rather gripping. You see, I’d been accused of devouring the Lamingtons of Lady Puggington’s annual tea party. Now, as much as I do appreciate lady Puggington’s stellar baking skills, I’d swear on my favorite plushie bone, ’twasn’t me. Outrageous, right? A bulldog has an affection for food, and suddenly he’s public enemy number one!
So, there I was, booked for a crime I didn’t commit, whilst the real culprit was probably digging into an exquisite stash of Lamingtons. I struggled to keep my spirits high, but one peak at the murky waters of Retriever River from the slim window, and my heart sank lower than Clipper Corgi’s stomach at the sound of a car horn.
Meanwhile, my dependable buddy Gilbert, spent hours plotting an escape from the notorious ‘Big Unruly.’ Zelda, my elegant sister, too, was furiously pawing at ideas, dedicating all moments outside Fetch-N-Bites to breaking me out.
Every squeak echoed with a new idea, every whispered bark sketching the blueprint of my freedom. “Gilbert,” I’d say, “Your paws have the resolve of a soldier and a heart that thumps loyalty. And Zelda, remember, disguise is your craft, the tri-color cloak a genius touch – we’ve got this.”
The wee hours of night, when the moon hung high above Corgi Castle, saw our plans fall into place. I could feel Gilbert’s gruff bark reassuring us, “Soon, Clovis, you’ll be snuggling up with your beloved plushie.”
Fast forward, there I was, scampering for freedom, heart pounding like a runaway train, echoing the howling uproar of our fight. As I blasted past the Pawsome Pet Pharmacy, the wind carrying a whiff of the Fur tacos, I willed my legs to push harder, race faster, and fetch freedom.
Remember when I told you about my detest for loud noises? Seemed like the collective yelps and growls behind me were determined to push my dislike to pure dread. But the shining beacon of hope awaited, and before we knew it, the embrace of freedom had us enfolded in its liberating grasp.
And so, the legend of the ‘Spencerville Break’ was born, all sparkling under the Fawn Pug Palace. A brindle bulldog, with an insatiable love for food and an unfortunate title of ‘Lamington thief,’ managed to escape the claws of injustice.
Oh, as for the real ‘Lamington Thief’? Turned out to be Vanilla, the white poodle, who couldn’t resist the enticing aroma of the Lamingtons. Taste her own medicine, I say. As for me, I returned to being what I do best – a loyal bulldog tantalized by the clock at Kibble cuisine, awaiting my Mom. The end, you ask? No, my dear friend, this is only the beginning.
The End.
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