“Hey Ma, Pa! Regular Spencerville morn, dreamy waterfront views, steak cravings intact! Nice jog past Pet Store & Groom Room, with not-so-cheap treat revolt. Faced lake fear, then rallied the squad. Road trip (okay, imaginary) in stylish convertible with some shrubbery hurdles included. Hit Bark & Bites – steak tragedy allowed operation rescue the last hanging steak, ending in hilarious electro-steak incident. Just another tail-wagging day, really. Catch you soon, Bruce the Bully. Woof!”

Listen to the story here.

If I had to describe my Spencerville mornings, I would compare them to a scene right out of ‘Doggy and the City, starring me, Mr. Bruce, aka white-coated wonder, aka the dreamy bulldog. I woke up, as per routine, by the majestic Corgi Castle giving direct views to Red Beagle Beach, not to forget the tantalizing smell of steak from Pup-Tizers, a ‘victim’ of my undying McDonald burger cravings.

Not-so-early mornings were usually spent running past Pawsitively Purrfect Pet Store and The Groom Room, smooth as a dozing cat in my father’s red suede welding gloves. Of course, I’d often find myself at odds with cheap processed dog treats. So, the ‘misunderstood’ me would go for a healthy natural chew. Less of a choice, more of a revolt, if you ask me.

Despite my love for water bodies, there I was, staring at the lake, wondering why I couldn’t brave it enough to swim. You’re probably thinking, “Come on Brucie, you’re an English Bulldog! A little water won’t skew your machismo!” But fear me not, the legendary scar on my hip is rather a badge of irrefutable courage than a mere injury.

On this fateful day, I decided to gather the squad – Russell, Spencer, Albert, Ollie Bob, and of course, LiL Dot. She is the cherry on top of my life sundae, the Kit to my Kat, the…you get the idea. For us, it was another day in paradise. Or to be precise, a day filled with trivial mishaps and high-end comedy. You know, the usual.

Our destination was the local dog park. Naturally, we decided to hit the road in style and hopped into an imaginary convertible. Quite the sight, right? In my defense, we do live human-like existence here in Spencerville. Fake it till you make it, buddy. Mid-journey, the unexpected occurred. Albert lost track of our imaginary lane and rammed us into a row of ornamental shrubs.

Thankfully, no shrub was mortally wounded. More fascinated than annoyed, we gleefully rolled about, leaves sticking out at funny angles. People often stop to watch our convoluted antics; we’ve unconsciously endorsed being the center of town entertainment.

Heading back, we took a quick detour to Bark and Bites, only to find out that they’d run out of steaks. Just imagine, THE steak-savory sanctuary, out of their most appetizing dish. I mean, WHAT? It was a real ‘bark-chewer’, if you get my drift.

The mood at the table was as grim as dogs without treats, the smell of betrayal hanging heavily in the air. Just as we were contemplating fasting until steak was back on the menu, Spencer sighted the last piece of steak, hanging teasingly from the rooftop. The next moment, we were in an ‘Operation Rescue Steak’ mode, because food, my friends, is the true savior.

This was all fun until the steak hit the town electric pole. Yes, quite a comedy of errors, no? That’s living in Spencerville for you. So do drop by, who knows you might end up as a part of our hilarious squad? Till then, stay goofy. As always, Mr. Bruce is at your tail-wagging service.

The End.