“Hey Mom, had a fun-filled day chasing squirrels, dining at Ruff-n-Ready, and getting pampered at Spa for Paws. Dodged the park and desert for a bit of quiet, avoiding Jax (that rogue!) and powerhouses Charlie, Moose, Ozzy, and Echo. Ran wild, shunned cheeseburgers, relished digging. Despite vacuums and rain making me anxious, life in pet-friendly Spencerville is a joyous car ride for this vinyl record of a dog. Miss you, till we reunite! – Jaz Bug”

Listen to the story here.

I’d been in Spencerville for quite a spell, a town where seasons shift with the grace of a dog leaping after a frisbee. After I’d once again enjoyed the familiar excitement of chasing a squirrel through Red Beagle Beach, I made my way to Ruff-n-Ready for a bite. The smell of chicken and rice wafting through the restaurant was unapologetically delicious. And why shouldn’t it be? It’d been scientifically proved that ignoring the aroma of food in Spencerville was as hard as not chasing the mailman.

Getting back to my task, after the satisfying detour of a meal, I retreated for a quick wash at Spa for Paws, grinning at the irony of the name as my fur got a well-deserved rejuvenation.

The rest of the day was reserved for some good-old wild wanderings. Understand, my disinclination towards the desert and dog park was not a refusal of fun, rather a rebellion against sensory overload. I’d entertained admirers in my time like Jax, the wire-haired terrier rogue that would do anything for a stick. And, I’d spent countless hours in the company of my siblings Charlie, Moose, Ozzy, and Echo, whose energy levels were the envy of the town.

Although I enjoyed the occasional slice of cinnamon bread or a morsel of Mom’s sumptuous pasta, I didn’t fancy the prospect of a cheeseburger – it seemed a monstrous initiator of afternoon naps. Admittedly, I did feel a certain fondness, a deep geological affection really, for digging.

One didn’t necessarily have to be engaged in any particular activity in Spencerville to enjoy oneself. Be it the alluring bay, the enlivening beach, or the captivating forest, peace and joy were at home here, akin to the way I felt during those lengthy car rides or the exciting frolics within the forest.

I cannot deny, though, that I’d known cycles of anxiety, triggered by the invasive sound of vacuum cleaners or the incessant pitter-patter of rain. But once you realize that these are but minor asteroids passing through the serene galaxy of life, you learn to navigate through them, coming out the other side stronger, much like a hotdog after a microwave ride. Waiting patiently for life’s next grand car ride, I knew that the realm of Spencerville was my own, a testament to a journey well-lived, a homage to coming of age in the warm embrace of a town designed for pets.

In this place, in this moment, I realized I was, in many ways, remarkably similar to a good old vinyl record – possessing some scratches, numerous interesting bits, quite a few repetitive parts, but profoundly cherished for the unique, harmonious symphony that was my existence. And till the day I get reunited with Mom, I’d continue to play my part in this melodious story of Spencerville.

The End.