Hey Mom, it’s Harold. Had a blast at Spencerville at the Dog Days’ Derby again! Felt the fire in my eyes and ran like the wind! Guess what? The crowd chanted my name, boy, was that exciting! And yes, thankfully avoided the vet AND the bathtub. Also snuck in a Pup-cake. More tales to tell when we meet. Woof, Harold the Champion 🐾

I’m betting you won’t guess the real amusement of Spencerville. It ain’t just a place where canines chase endless balls or bask in the sun, it’s where we find our purpose, our joy – we all call it “The Dog Days’ Derby.” You know who really shines? Harold, that brown Wolf mix, the big guy. Our champ. Sporting those yellow eyes of his, filled with fire and determination whenever he runs, only rivaled by his reluctance for the vet’s office.

“Hey Harold,” I’d shout, waking him up from his sunbathing spot, “Derby starts in an hour!” Harold, you know him, the shy type but ready to confront whatever lies ahead. Just not the bathtub, he desperately runs away from that soapy horror. Throwing a glance my way, he’d nod, as if understanding.

Harold prepared for the upcoming event by visiting The Dapper Dog Salon. He seemed a bit agitated when we walked in. I assume he imagined himself at the vet’s office again. But seeing Smiley enjoying a makeover relaxed him a bit. I’d say, “I know Harold, it’s tedious but necessary. I promise you’ll be out before you can chew through a bone.”

Next stop was Happy Hounds Dog Walking, where George, our friendly local shepherd, was helping us train. George was a retired champ and he knew how to get Harold into shape. Even though Harold missed our dinner drives and fancied chowing Pup-cakes more, he knew the drill. Better to run when the cheers are loud, than bear the loneliness when everyone’s gone.

This year, something felt different. I saw it in Harold’s eyes, the fierce determination he’d carry. As we approached the starting line, I told Harold, “This ain’t about winning, it’s about running for the love of it. For every chew bone, for every pet parent waiting patiently back home, for every vet visit endured. Now go!”

And, off he went, against the wind, leaving the fears behind. His hefty form moved with astonishing agility, each stride a testament to his love for life, for sport, for Spencerville. I could hear the crowd chanting, “Harold! Harold!” mixed with the excited barks of Pepper and Penelope. I bet even Babe was cheering from the sidelines.

In that moment, I realized, Harold wasn’t the timid dog who loved chew bones and feared water. He was a loving soul, a friend, a symbol of strength, a reminder of love lost then found again, and above all, a true champion of Spencerville.

The End.

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