- Dog Tales
- October 1, 2023
Sammy PawWord Story
Hey Ma, had another bustling day in Spencerville. Did my usual rounds, had sushi at the Cat’s Meow, played fetch with Roxy. As evening fell, couldn’t help but miss you more than the chase of the ball. But you know me, always dreaming of seeing you. Until then, gonna keep wagging & living. Night, Ma. Love, Sambo.
So, there I was, eh? The glorious Spencerville casting splashes of color in my wake. I’m Sammy, a beagle-Jack Russel mix, the talk of the town, they say. But who am I to argue?
My day starts with a lively jaunt down the Silver Siberian Summit. It overdraws from my energy bank, but that’s the point. You’ve got to invest to get returns, you know? My peanut-butter spotted fur billowing in the soft draft. Anti social? Not me. I call in at The Barking Boutique and The Pawsome Pet Pharmacy – not that I need stuff but a quick hello never killed anyone.
Midday sun hits the Tan Dalmatian Desert, so I take a detour. Head to the The Cat’s Meow Sushi. Unconventional for a dog, I get it. But you don’t get to where I am by playing by the rules, do you? I’ve been around the block, sniffed enough to know, conformity has its limits. Life’s more than just sniffing, you know.
Post lunch. My favorite part of the day when Roxy and I play fetch by the Red Beagle Beach. God, Roxy! She’s a constant, my rock. She knows this place better than anyone I’ve met. We share bites of Pup-Cakes from Sniff ‘n’ Snack. I mean, you cannot say no to pupcakes. If you ever do, consult a psychiatrist.
The sun sets, it’s a spectacle here. My adventures for the day peter out, I’m beat. Those stubborn remarks, I get them. But they don’t know the half of it. I ain’t stubborn. I’m a true-blooded, high-spirited survivor in this topsy-turvy paradise, and I won’t have it any other way!
But tonight, tonight is different. It’s a lonely world here, even when you’re not alone. For all the light and love Spencerville has, it can’t warm the pang of missing mom. Yeah, she’s out there, beyond this paradise, and I miss her. Breaking all that utopian pretense, my heart aches.
Night’s blanket is comforting, yet there is this abyss of loneliness, no matter how much you fulfill your day. But you know what they say about the night, it’s always darkest before the dawn, right? My eyes close to her memory, with hope. I’ll be seeing her, one of these days. And then, what more does a loyal son seek?
Standing at the edge of tomorrow, Austen might have said ‘it’s a truth universally acknowledged..’ but I, in Spencerville, must say — it requires bravery to embrace the paradox of longing amidst contentment. Home is where you are loved, and here it is. Yet, the heart reaches out to its roots, it’s only natural.
So as Spencerville dreams under the blanket of twinkling stars, I dream of a reunion that awaits beyond our paradise; A blend of all that’s now and all that has been. Because dreams, after all, are where tomorrow’s stories begin.
The End.
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