“Hey pops! Had a tail-waggin’ wild day at Beagle Beach, even made a terrier buddy. Escaped a bath at Pug Palace and ate a popcorn feast instead. Fawn Pug Palace got me all emotional, reminded me of our lonely past, but Rocky’s tug-of-war cheered me up! Spencerville trip ended with a surprise – Caesar joining our walk! Who knew this homebody brute could enjoy a road trip! 🐾 – Brutus”

Listen to the story here.
There I was, Brutus Bulldog, sniffing the afternoon post away, as another sun-kissed day shyly slithered behind the town sign of Spencerville – home of the blessed lost souls on four legs. Dad had just told me about our imminent road trip, a tour de force of all the haunts that make Spencerville the place of dreams for departed pets. Now, I am not one for sentimentality. A good slobbering Frisbee hijack or a popcorn massacre was my idea of high jinks. But when Dad proposed the idea of this journey, an odd, dog-ears-raised swirl of curiosity got the better of me.

Not being much of an exploratory bulldog, the idea of a road trip felt as appealing as a serving of Brussels sprouts – but Da’s excitement helped tuck away my lingering dread. Our first stop was Beagle Beach. Its sandy simplicity would rival any sunny backyard. Felt just like playing an unfettered game of Frisbee, except with a generous breeze tossed in. I encountered a zesty terrier – a beach novice too – we sniffed, we romped, and then in true daring canine fashion, nosedived into the foamy waves.

Then came the Pug Palace, a grooming wonderland of sorts. Dad attempted to convince me that a bath here might be enjoyable. Made as much sense as expecting me to enjoy the company of our arch-nemesis – the vacuum cleaner. It’s not every day you see a bulldog outwit his old man, but I wriggled my pudgy self free and head straight to the treat parlor section, a treasure trove armed with all sorts of delicacies – my eyes fell on a sumptuous bag of popcorn, and, well, the rest is a popcorn massacre history.

Of course, Spencerville was not all sunshine and Frisbee. We had to cover Fawn Pug Palace, a site reminding me of the harsh chapters of separations and solitude in my early years. Yet, it managed to bring in a wave of understanding, a sense of yearning I had not thought was part of my cheerful, Frisbee-obsessed existence. The quiet silence of the desert-like place conveyed the questioning eyes of pets who once felt left out, alone. If Brutus Bulldog had a touchy spot, it stirred right there. Here I was, feeling moody and morose, when a frisky Rocky appeared to challenge me to a game of tug-of-war, a reminder that to overcome any hardship, all I needed was a good rumble and the company of a true friend.

As the day waned, I found myself in front of Happy Hounds Dog Walking, my tail wagging with renewed enthusiasm. And Dad, being the clever old man he is, had saved the best for last. It was a surprise of ultimate joy – Caesar joining us in this epic walkabout. Just like the backyard walks, only a million times better with the most expansive backyard ever, Spencerville!

So, there it was, my heartfelt tale of a road trip – one that unravelled unexpected emotions, healthier camaraderie, and hearty popcorn feasts. And guess what? For a bulldog who’d rather wrestle veggie monsters, I think I did rather well. As I let my tired eyes descend on the failing evening glow, I knew I had one more story to spin to my buddies. Only this time, it had a bit more than just Frisbee chronicles. It had a chunk of Bulldog heart in it.

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