“Hey fam, just a regular day here in Sunny Spencerville. Stretched, barked at birds, sniffed the day’s opportunities. Almost had a ‘water attack’ by a lost retriever but we dealt with it as usual – toys and barks at the ready. Shared stories, gruel, and cuddles till sunset. Another day well spent in animal camaraderie. Till the next sunrise. – Baby boy”

Listen to the story here

On a typical sunny morning in Spencerville, Reo, our little explorer, woke up in his stylish fortress in Northern Choco Chihuahua Castle, arching his back to a glorious stretch. There was nothing quite like starting the day in the thriving town where we all lived the dream: human-like fun, uneclipsed by the specter of sorrow, waiting to be reunited with those we loved.

From my bay window, I could see his silky black and white coat glisten in the sunlight, his sublime persona highlighting his protective streak, as he stood guard against the occasional bird that got too close to our domain. Independent, stubborn, but pure-hearted, yes, that was our admirable Reo.

“Morning, Reo,” I greeted, chirping in the language we secretly shared. He replied in his own, his affectionate eyes flickering with familiarity. He was always the first to sniff out a new day and the wide spread of opportunities it hid beneath its sun-kissed veil.

As the town of animal camaraderie stirred to life, noise filled the air but never the kind to grate. Bow Wow Burgers, Waggle n’ Wok, and Doggy Delight began to perfuse the air with their tempting aromas, setting our stomachs turning in anticipation. I observed these activities, intertwined into the tapestry of my day, and wondered how life had been before moving to Spencerville.

But just as I had settled into my morning routines, I heard the hushed whispers waft into my ears — the words ‘water’, ‘attack’ and ‘danger,’ weaved with a note of fear. My heart pounding, I whipped around to Reo, who glared at the vast landscape beyond, where he often preferred his play-dates. His nostrils flared, picking up a scent – something we hadn’t accommodated in our Lives before; a Flat-coated retriever who’d mistaken the settings of his GPS, perhaps.

Within a moment, there was chaos. Spencerville, the anti-water town, was staring at the possibility of an unwanted visitor. Reo’s best pals, Daisy and Jasper, had assumed the role of Parkway Guardians, barricading entry routes, while Reo scrambled assist. I followed suit, stimulated by the collective adrenaline that was brewing in our quaint town.

As we geared up, facing danger with combined strengths in the form of well-loved toys and intimidating barks, I felt an odd satisfaction. This wouldn’t have been the day we lost to a water dog invader. We would protect our peace, our Sun kisses and ice cream scoops, cramped car rides and crinkly snacks, against anything! Or well, at least against vacuum cleaners, swimming and delivery guys.

The day wore on, and as usual, thrill kept us dreaming, living and loving. That evening over bowls of gruel and stories of the day shared, I looked at Reo: Composed, yet vigilant, tiny yet mighty. This is how we did it in Spencerville. Life was an adventure, and in its every corner, we found comfort, laughter, and delightful irony.

And just as I was about to draw the curtains over another day in this world, I heard Reo’s tiny voice speak in our secret language, “Till next sunrise.”