“Hey there! Landed in Spencerville, tail wagging with joy. Made friends with an old, wise Westie. Still ruling my sunlit yard but hates lettuce and vacuum cleaners. Adventures with Sadie, bacon grease on kibble, and my bluebird toy keep me going. Missing you, but ready to dig into this town’s mysteries till we meet again. – Baby girl”

Listen to the story here.
I still remember the first time I arrived in Spencerville, a quasi-euphoriant dimension suffused with perked ears, wagging tails, and endearing yelps of joy echoing through the air. It wasn’t long before I ran into an English Bulldog with a brindle and white coat marked with patches of Alpacia. By rights and canine conventions, she was my subject, Larkin, the talking dog.

Now, before you spiral down the rabbit hole of questioning my sanity, an essential reminder – Spencerville isn’t your typical suburban town. Here, dogs lead human-like lives garnished with a drizzle of everyday canine adventure, and yes, they could talk.

Larkin, a robust blend of grace and loyalty, was often found ruling her sunlit backyard territory in the daytime with the tenacity of Churchill during the war. Territorial yet never tyrannical, firm yet far from fierce. Yet, her kingdom came with a unique social code – she hated being alone.

Her solitude thus disrupted with her friendship with a wise old Westie, Grandpa Walton, a regular visitor from the nearby Westie Woods. Walton was her accomplice in leisure, often joining her in the idyllic sunbathing sessions.

Every so often, you’d find Walton lumber into Pawsitively Purrfect Pet Store, securing treats for his royal friend. No, not lettuce, heavens forbid. Larkin’s stomach was as stubborn as she was, and lettuce found a place, right next to vacuum cleaners and psychedelic rock, in her list of dislikes.

Now the real key to Larkin’s canine heart resided in bacon grease on kibble, a unique delicacy mastered by the food maestros at Bone Appetit. Rumour had it that the chefs had a secret pact with Wild Wilbur, the resident pig, for an unlimited supply of bacon. I admit, the mystery was more enticing than the truth behind it.

As her pawpal Sadie skittered around their joint adventures, their bond was remarkably more familial than friendly, often tottering around in matching festive outfits. In Spencerville, we call that ‘sibling goals.’

Surrounded by her pals and her favourite bluebird toy – a memorabilia from her human life, Larkin lived in harmony, missing her human but prepared for the eventual joyous reunion. But for now, she had to contend with the town’s mysteries, and I was just starting my investigations.

Welcome to Spencerville, where every pet tale hides a labyrinth of uncharted adventures, and I was, against better judgment but fueled by sheer curiosity, about to go down the rabbit hole with a charismatic English Bulldog named Larkin.