“Hey Mom, your fur rocket Gus here. Just another day in sunny Spencerville – romped around Collie Canyon, made my disdain for watermelons known at Pupsicle Palace, and drove down to the lake, head out the window, loving each whiff of Spencerville air.

Refused (again) those pesky ear cleanings and spent my afternoon avoiding other dogs – humans, specifically kiddos, are my tribe you know! And of course, I scored some of my favored oatmeal cream pies from The Doggy Depot.

As the dusk sets in, I’m all tucked into my comfy Beanbone bed, reminiscing the good ol’ times. Here’s to making memories, Mom, every ordinary day an adventure. All’s well in Gus’ buoyant world.

Miss you with all my bulldog heart,

Gus the Destroyer.”

Ever since Gus found himself in Spencerville, his days were filled with bright rays of the sun reflecting off his stocky figure and an exciting brush of fresh air against his sun-kissed tan and white patches. I marveled at how much he had changed, yet how much he’d managed to stay the same in his spirit.

“Good morning, Gus,” I greeted him, my voice echoing through the serene lanes of Spencerville. Not wasting a second, Gus was already romping around in Collie Canyon, his playful energy electrifying the otherwise calm morning.

For lunch, we sauntered down to Pupsicle Palace; claiming our usual corner spot. I watched in amusement, Gus savoring his meaty lunch whilst expertly weaving around the much-dreaded watermelon slices. In these moments, it was almost impossible not to laugh at his stubborn yet undeniably lovable idiosyncrasies.

Despite his insistence on avoiding watermelons, Gus loved the lake that skirted the edge of Spencerville. Almost a daily ritual, we would drive down with his head shooting out of the window, inhaling the fresh air of Spencerville to his heart’s content. Looking at Gus in his element, I often wondered if he ever missed the real world. Of course, I missed him dearly, comforted only by the thought of being reunited someday.

The day and Gus’s seemingly inexhaustible energy marched at the same pace. As usual, he ignored the other dogs, despite their friendly advances. He simply preferred human interactions, especially children. Strangely, adults came with certain exceptions, all the more emphasized in Spencerville, where these pets invoked personified characteristics.

In this heaven for pets, it was surprisingly easy to forget that he was a dog. Gus displayed complexity in his behavior equivalent to any person, the afternoon was usually reserved for his pet peeves, like ear cleaning, which induced a level of sulk I had seldom seen, even by human standards.

His stubbornness extended to shopping trips too. Of all the shops in Spencerville, only The Doggy Depot was his approved destination. This was mostly due to their stock of his beloved oatmeal cream pies.

As the day drew to a close and the dusk’s soft glow embellished his sun-kissed tan, my heart ached for the old loyal, brooding, adventurous, and oafish Gus. In silent wonder, I watched my stubborn boy, now making himself comfortable on his favorite Beanbone bed, perhaps reminiscing about his adventures with his toys and the time he had spent with his family.

And so ended another day in Spencerville, a day in the life of my old friend, Gus, the bulldog, his love remaining untarnished in my memories, bridging the mortal and immortal realms.

The End.