“Hey fam, livin’ the dream here in Spencerville! Got sunshine sans beach, new pals at daycare, even found myself a lady friend. Still not a fan of strawberries, mind you. Think of it as heaven for canines. Howl at you later! – Chicken Nugget 😄 🐾”

One might ponder about what happened to our dear friend Gordon, a rather blissful canine who had a rather complicated relationship with strawberries and sunshine. The answer lies in none other than the delightful town of Spencerville. Brace yourself for a revelation.

Waking up in Spencerville is much like waking up after a nightlong slumber at one’s favorite cushioned cocoon. Stretching his limbs upon his recent arrival, Gordon was pleasantly surprised to be in a spot familiar though never seen: South Siberian Summit, complete with a heap of blissfully sunny spots that warmed the spirit as much as the body.

The afternoon usually finds him nestled outside Corgi Castle, absorbing the sunrays, tracing the wind with his inquisitive nose, thanking his lucky stars that Spencerville is a beach and rain-free paradise. To his delight, no terrifying vacuum cleaners disturb his peace, nor does he need to endure the abhorred sensation of wet fur.

The Doggie Daycare is his favorite shop, not only does it offer him countless chew toys – including an endless array of pink hedgehog lookalikes, it also brings him his closest companions; Cede, Lexi, Abby, Emma, and Quincy. The sight of Abby always puts a waggle in his tail, and sometimes, it brings a slobbering mess around his jowls. However, he refuses to be embarrassed about it. After all, this is Spencerville where no pet is judged.

For a solitary old fella like Gordon, dining was a perplexing event, made bearable with the trio of chicken, bananas, and liver offered at Chow Hound Café. However inevitable, the occasional strawberry would cross paths. I would feel almost sorry for the innocent fruit, until I remember how much he loathes it. Nothing warrants his scorn more than the misunderstood berry—nothing.

The evenings have a peculiar, almost captivating charm. As night falls and Spencerville morphs into a constellation of twinkling lights, you are likely to find Gordon returning to his favorite perch on South Siberian Summit. As the first stars emerge above, he often murmurs a soft, low howl into the night, awaiting a silhouette on the horizon, knowing that his people will find him someday, just as he had found Spencerville.

Each day passes in the calm and calculated rhythm Gordon prefers, filled with sniffing explorations, carefully chosen delights, and radiant sunbaths. Although I’ve learned to expect each peculiarity and eccentricity, I’ve also learned to admire the resilience and charm of Spencerville’s new resident.

Until one day, as I stared at Roberto Gordon Gau snoozing under his favorite sunspot, I recognized something more profound in the way he etched himself into our existence, the pawprints he left behind that proclaimed his legacy. So, to you, my dear departed friend, Gordon, I say this: There’s no rush. Enjoy Spencerville, bask in the sun, stay hydrated at Paws-A-Latte, and maybe give that strawberry another shot, or maybe…don’t.

The End.