Hey Dad! Dodged the noisy vacuum monster today, galloped with the crew around N. Chihuahua Castle – even as bulldogs we felt like knights. Scored some prime grub at Waggle n’ Wok, no need for tuxedos indeed! Miss our tugs-of-war though and those beach rides. As for me, another cozy eve with Mugsy, beautiful sunset over Black Bulldog Bay. Tomorrow promising more adventures! Life’s good but missing you. – Zubazz

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As an English Bulldog of convictions, I wake up in our manicured Spencerville residence, a beacon for our pet-residing kind in a place seemingly sculpted by Salvador Dalí if he chose to paint a utopian pet-topia. It’s beautiful. But the culprit of this morning’s unease is that intrusive vacuum cleaner, usurping the house’s silence with its voracious hum. I mean, what’s the appeal? I prefer my fur where it falls naturally, y’know what I mean?

Anyway, managing to evade that contraption, I rendezvous with Baker, Spencer, and Reo for a nice gallop around North Chihuahua Castle. There’s something about the wind and aura of this nook of Spencerville. You instantly feel chivalrous. Not that I fancy myself a knight, but it’s an amusing notion.

Our daily frolics are interrupted by the tantalizing aroma wafting from Waggle n’ Wok. My culinary desires lean more towards the luxurious, like Cheesesteaks, corned beef, peanut butter, boneless spare ribs, and prime rib. And Waggle n’ Wok has an astonishingly equal part of each. It’s like selecting from the finest of gourmet restaurants, but with no need to dress up.

I can’t imagine these delights being punctuated by going for a swim or a vet visit or an ear-cleaning session, each of which I’ve been accused of regarding with equal disdain as fast food. But, it’s all about maintaining balance. Yin and Yang. Cheesesteaks and vacuums.

Somehow, even here in Spencerville, our human-like haven, a touch of longing lurks for our human companions. I miss those tugs-of-war, rides to the beach, and even the mere presence of my father. Not that I’m pining or anything, I mean, there’s too much goodness here. But, well, you understand.

Evenings are spent with Mugsy, my snugly, stuffed mirror-self. Sitting under the sun setting over Black Bulldog Bay, I fondly remember the times I’d pranced around with Mugsy back at home, each of us mimicking the other. It’s bizarrely comforting. I mean, is there really anything more soothing than a good chat with a stuffed toy bulldog?

So here I am, Russell, a dog’s dog living an extravagant canine-human existence in Spencerville. Lovingly adored, meticulously fed, constantly entertained and destined to be reunited with my loving dad. I bask in the sunlight, instinctively anticipating a tomorrow filled with more delightful escapades. With a wag that concedes contentment, and a heart full of cherishing reminiscences, it’s not such a bad gig being me, y’know?

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