Hey, Mom. I’m finding my paws here in the afterlife, Spencerville. Fond of the Pup ‘n’ Go Taco Joint & Fetch ‘N’ Bites. Got a serious addiction to tennis balls. Rolling around with Abby, Pebbles, and Betty, our bond’s as strong as ever. Pesky baths? Still an adversary! Awaiting our reunion with wagging tail and bounding spirit. Love, Clodog.

It had been one helluva morning in Spencerville – the kind that makes dogs like me howl at the dawning sun. Nothing I’d ever dreamt could whisk me off from my quaint life, yet here I stood, a Boston Terrier named Chloe, in the afterlife. But even us dogs are entitled to our own immortality, and what better place could it be but Spencerville?

As I took a stride, darting looks around the Dalmatian Desert, the sun kissed my coat, black and white merging with the shadows. Independence, they say is a virtue. Independence with an adventurous spirit is a whole mishmash of thrill and drama. I could sense the hustle and bustle of Pup ’n’ Go Taco Joint located across The Pampered Pooch Salon. The aroma spilling from Pup ‘N’ Go was speaking in tongues to my taste buds. It was cuisine contrast, the pleasing sweetness of bananas, with a hint of cherry tomatoes in burst, nuzzled by the heartiness of grilled beef ribs, biting back at the tip of my tongue.

My kins had a knack for toys – the squeaky kind, the jingling kind, they’d throw their paws at everything. But I was a femme with finer taste – tennis balls were my indulgence. Some would say it was funny or perhaps a little strange, but I took my fetch game seriously, especially throwing half of the balls over at Western Husky Hill.

After a hard day of pretend-hunting and sunbathing on Fawn Cream Maltese Meadow, there ain’t nothing like a trip to Fetch-N-Bites. I had my eyes on the dessert, preferably the sweet cold lore of ice cream. I might be in the afterlife but my love for treats, and that pure white delight hadn’t simmered down.

Spencerville was not a harsh mistress – it was a town tailor-made to keep pets like me occupied, entertained and perhaps, improve. Yet there was something that came with me from the unforgiving, real world – the mundane dread of walks and the ear-scraping clamor of loud noises. Bath, the oldest foe, was still a foe. Being within an arm’s reach of children raised my tiny hackles, my space, once invaded, could not be retracted.

But life… death, rather, was better shared. I had my pack – Abby and Pebbles, and my blood, Betty. We frequented Woof and Whisker Wellness Center, helluva place to wind down, to reminisce about our old times, to bring a little bit of the past into the present. We had these bonds in this strange and wonderful afterlife – a testament to our loyalty.

A Boston Terrier like me was happy, hopeful and hella excited to stretch and strain the norms of this place, awaiting for that reunion day with those who loved us back in our quaint little town. It was a journey, a chase, and boy, I’d never been more eager to give a rat’s ass about anything else.

In Spencerville, it was always a day in the life, among the pets, among the living.

The End.