“Barked the PB delight at Chow Hound, did the usual stroll with the crew till we sniffed out fresh tail at Happy Hound. Not on my watch! Got my rubber duck, went for a splash, Spencerville style. Paws up for the next adventure! Catch ya at the next howl, Tankers.”

Listen to the story here

Alright, let me paint you a picture, kid. It was another ordinary day in Spencerville – or as ordinary as it could get when you’re in a town where the heartbeats echo a wagging tail’s rhythm. I was on my way to the Chow Hound Café for a dose of the usual – a peanut butter delight. You see, there was something about that nutty goodness that got me going. Everybody in town knew it. Just as they knew not to cross paths with me and Brussels sprouts – a reprehensible little vegetation devised to ruin palates, if you ask me.

I had company, as usual – Lulu, my little stick of dynamite. Her compact Corgi body gave her the disposition of a queen ruling over Spencerville. Then there was my crew – couldn’t tell you their names, a gentleman’s got to respect privacy now, ain’t that right? We’d shift to Spotted Red Beagle Beach or maybe frolic around Choco Chihuahua Castle. That’s how we rolled. Yeah, we were tight, like an old screw in a rusty lock. Even Spencerville knew not to mess with us.

Funny thing, though, that day wasn’t quite as ordinary as I thought. Turned out some new-fangled pups had decided to set up shop at Happy Hounds Dog Walking. Young blood, oozing with reckless enthusiasm. Looked like the types who dream of pouring rumbles into the quiet rhythm of Spencerville. No sir, I wasn’t having any of that.

I made a detour, resolving to handle the situation with my trademark Tank diplomacy. The sunshine was bright, reflected heavily off my greyed face and the heart-shaped mark on my forehead.

Think of me as an enforcer – the good kind, kid. The kind who is unafraid to take a leap, quite literally, to ensure Spencerville remained a sanctuary for us—unwavering in its tranquility.

That day, with my loyal rubber duckie in tow, our unity on display, it was as good a day as any for a swim and a confrontation. Would I use force, or could I use wit? Now, that’s a tale for another day, kid…

Life in Spencerville was never boring, and I think despite the stories and legends, it was the crimes, the plots and the whispers that kept it exciting. It kept us, the dogs of Spencerville, on our toes.

Now, a sip of beer, please. After all, I’ve got more stories to tell.

The End.