Hey Mom,

Beyond the chaos, I’m staying strong. I’ve dug out a haven for myself under our favorite tree, thinking of you every time I bury my snoot. I’m eating well, even if Yappy Yogurt isn’t as good as your home cooking.

I’ve become the king of Spencerville and my reign is all based on hope. I believe in us and await our reunion. I’m ‘living’, not just surviving.

While I wander between Bulldog Bay and Eastern White Westie Woods, I think of you. I miss our games, our laughs. But I’m not alone, Mom. I’ve got the memories of Spencerville to keep me company.

Although the world outside is scary, my world inside brims with courage. I promise I’m being brave, probably braver than most.

Love,
Sambo

The world outside was a cacophony of carrion cries and dread. But you know Sammy, right? He was taking his sweet time, oblivious of every Armageddon horror story unraveled by humans. That dog, he found peace in chaos – living on the goddam edge of oblivion and he loved every bit of it! An uncommon mix of Beagle and a Jack Russel Terrier beaming with peanut-butter hued spots, Sammy was a dog with perpetual ambition and an appetite.

Remember when the radios stopped working? That’s the day Sammy decided to dig out the largest pit he could manage under that twisted old tree by Silver Siberian Summit. After a fiendishly long day, he would settle down, flirting with Yappy Yogurt leftovers, licking that old red Kong toy of his clean of every lasting essence of his favorite steak-and-butter treat from Furrific Fried Chicken. Kid loved food…absolutely adored it.

Sammy, damn him, was the dog-king of Spencerville. But, he was no authoritarian, no tyrant. His rule was simple. Believe in the system. Have faith in the eternal reunion of pet and owner. It should’ve been hard, but it wasn’t for our Sammy. He was hopeful…always.

That dog, he experienced more civilization than we did. His day revolved around the snugly comfort of Bulldog Bay, the beautiful isolation of Eastern White Westie Woods, and the casual saunter towards Fetch! Toys and Treats. It was a routine, an ordered mess he welcomed openly. That’s because Sammy, that lovable rogue, knew the secret – it was not about ‘surviving,’ it was about ‘living.’

But Sammy, that stubborn son of a gun, knew how to draw a line. Being alone wasn’t his cup of tea. Lonely he was, but alone, he wasn’t. He had Spencerville. An echoing pantomime of loss and love. It softened his solitude, made him cherish the days he spent with Roxy, reminisce about the laughs they shared, the games they played. It was the fuel of Sammy’s spirit. Friendship, with its power to rewrite destiny… if only we had an ounce of that pure, unadulterated spirit.

The world outside resonated fear, but the world inside – inside Sammy and every pet who’d made Spencerville their home, echoed the promise of reunion. It was an adventure that only those with the most courageous hearts could bear and Sammy… Sammy was the bravest of ’em all. Even in the eye of this apocalypse, Sammy was more human than any of us…more alive.

The End.