“Hey Mom, it’s Mags here! Had a wild night defending Spencerville from otherworldly, green, slimy frogs! Gathered all the pup pals in town, stood our ground, and made them pop like soap bubbles. We’ve reclaimed our sanctuary until our next reunion with you. Woof, Mags 🐾”

Listen to the story here

It was an ungodly hour in Spencerville. The full moon hung low, the streets were as good as deserted except for a few stray cats. Then the sky folded like a tattered quilt and every dog in town felt it simultaneously. I, Scruffy, the self-proclaimed sheriff of Spencerville, shook off my slumber, my favorite ham-flavored treats forgotten.

Operation Paws began at the Tail Wagger’s. I’d just wolfed down my all-time favorite, a chicken and ham fiesta, when I noticed the mysterious glow in the night sky. My ol’ reliable toy squeaked beneath my paw, a reassuring presence. I rallied the troops, all my fellow doggos from Pug Palace, Greyhound Grove, and somewhere on towards Eastern White Westie Woods. The army of wagging tails and twitching noses my only solace in that grim reality.

The aliens were upon us. Green slimy frogs with a hundred eyes, floating in soap bubbles hovering just above the Fetching Deli, the Pupsicle Palace, and just about every corner of our beloved town. The Unseen Enemy come to conquer our perfect haven. But this dog, loyal to the bone, the same heartthrob hound that turned heads at the dog park, wasn’t going out without a fight.

In my earlier days, my insatiable curiosity and independent streak led me to endless escapades. The same spirit was now a weapon, charged with a mission. Saving Spencerville!

We deployed at Pawsitively Purrfect Pet Store, a strategic vantage point. Harley, the ever-grumpy Great Dane, took front position whilst I commanded the rear legions. The quiet Whippet from the Grove, Lottie, was our scout. With each bubble that fell and splashed into oblivion, our chins raised a notch higher, our hopes soared. We were dogs of Spencerville, protectors of this paradise, damn it!

Friends gathered outside the Pawfect Training Center, huffing, puffing, coated with determination and reeking of courage. Those good old friends I’d known since my pup-years, fought beside me, standing their ground against the otherworldly menace. Strength blazed like a beacon of hope from their eyes, resilience pulsated in their veins.

With every bunker taken and street secured, my hate for the slimy invaders soared. But what fueled me, you might wonder? Confound it, we were defending Spencerville, the Shangri-La for every departed pet, a paradise promised for playful eternity till reunited with our owners. That was our spirit, that was the last stand.

As dawn approached, we watched the final green freak pop into oblivion. We had endured, Spencerville was safe. Exhausted, lying in wait under the warm sunrise, I felt a familiar, comforting vibration under my paw – my loyal, old toy squeaked, a reminder of sorts. And, as the first rays of sunshine kissed our town, Spencerville emerged victorious.

Every dog in town, in unison, lifted their heads for the victory howl that cut through the morning mist. Victory was ours, and as the self-proclaimed sheriff, it was a hard lesson learned. Our little town of Spencerville was more than just the waiting room for reunion; it was a sanctuary worth protecting, even if it meant facing an alien invasion.

The End.