Hey Mom,

Ever recall our laughter-inducer Lambeau, our fluffy German Shepherd mix? Oh, what a ball of joy he was. Be it prancing around daffodils or ruling the turf with his buddies Rudy and Sandy, he had his paw-print on every heart in Spencerville. And his picky food habits! Loved his juicy chicken, wouldn’t touch a carrot. Never saw a dog with such culinary opinions.

A sea-loving spirit, I bet he’s Boxer Beach’s uncrowned king now. Miles of fetch haven, tail-thumping at the Chow Down Chow Chow’s chicken. I think he and the postman might even have buried the hatchet finally!

Missing our goofball daily, but delighted he’s having the time of his afterlife in Spencerville. Playing catch, making friends, savouring chicken meals- that’s the paradise we want, right?

Sending you many tail wags,

Lambeau 🐾

You’re probably familiar with Lambeau, aren’t you? That German Shepherd mix with ears that could make a grown man laugh and eyes that would soften the sternest of hearts.

If I close my eyes now, I can see him prancing about – proud as a peacock around the bright daffodils that lined the sidewalks of Spencerville. He’d have his velvet ball, almost the color of those lilacs tucked under his tongue. That ball, it was more than a toy for him. It was a piece of his heart.

Ah Lambeau, my Lambeau. Despite his playful spirit, our boy was picky, you know? A real food critic. He loved his chicken, savoring each juicy bit with such grace. Yet he could never stand carrots. No, sir. Those orange sticks held no flavor for our boy.

Lambeau knew how to choose his friends. Rudy, the Retriever that lived next door. Oh, and Sandy, that Spaniel from the house on the corner. The three of them were like the Musketeers of Spencerville, always ready for mischief.

Yes, those were some good days. And in Spencerville, they still are. Lambeau might not toss his ball around our backyard anymore, but he’s reigning Boxer Beach, I bet. That’s just the sort of place he’d love, don’t you think? Big open spaces, the smell of sea and salt, endless fetch opportunities. Add Rudy and Sandy to the mix, and it’s a paradise of a different kind.

Over there in Spencerville, instead of our local Grubhub deliveries, there’s Chow Down Chow Chow, and I can hear Lambeau’s tail thump at the mention. He was never one for carrots, but a good steaming plate of roast chicken from them, he’d enjoy that without a doubt, the sound of satisfaction echoing through the sunny village.

And let’s not forget about the postman. In Spencerville, I’d like to think he and Lambeau have found a way to settle their differences. After all, it’s a place where each day is perfect as they wait.… wait to be reunited with us. Let’s just continue their legends, shall we?

I miss him so, our Lambeau, but I take solace knowing he’s in Spencerville — living, laughing, enjoying his days exactly as he should. With his velvet ball, friends, and chicken dinner in a place that thrives in the heart of our heartfelt stories.

The End.