“Hey Ma! Started another epic day chasing tennis balls🎾. Went on a superb drive, detoured for a fry-up for me and a donut for hooman 🍩. Herded sheep, finally hit Beagle Beach! Lost another chew toy, but bonded with pals from The Groom Room. Ended with sand castles and sunsets 🏖️. Tired now, so more adventures tomorrow! Love, your Sassy Cassie.”

Listen to the story here

I woke up to the distinctive clatter that sounded remarkably like a biscuit-coated Spencerville resident chasing a tennis ball down the driveway; the ungodly hour was clearly no match for Cassie’s deliciously stubborn appetite for life and… well, biscuits. “That’ll be Cassie, then,” I said to the ceiling planks which complacently stared back.

Grabbing my jacket and hat, I ventured into the brisk Spencerville morning, as did Cassie, whose curly tail stretched out like a spring in a toy pirate’s pistol, sending gasps of laughter down my spine every single time. “Morning at ya, ya oversized biscuit fiend,” I greeted, patting her large, fawn-coated body, now specked with morning dew and zest for the day ahead.

“No time to muck about,” Cassie replied, in her enthusiastic tail-wagging lingo. And off we embarked upon our heart-lifting road trip across the splendid expanses of Spencerville, with Beagle Beach on our mental map. But not without a detour to Furrific Fried Chicken, a little ritual of ours before any road trip. She would get a doggy bag of fried chicken, while I ended up with cream-filled donuts.

Our journey groundbreaking rather than smooth, as was customary when Cassie was in-charge of directions. Spotting a herd of sheep, she was off like a reveler on festival day. “Wait up, ya numpty!” I hollered, trudging after her, breath fogging the crisp air.

We made it to Beagle Beach by noon, to the stretch of sand where Cassie had once lost her ‘unlosable’ chew toy; it had taken her a whole fortnight to chew her way out of that disappointment. Settling down, I took in the sight of the massive Pug Palace, an architectural marvel that frankly, was more a palace than pug.

Later, at Spotted Red Beagle Beach, while Cassie made sand fortresses with dogged determination, I fell into a conversation with blokes from The Groom Room. We traded stories about the quirks of our beloved Spencervillian pets overtime; each tale a testament to the joy, love, and utter madness that poured out of their little hearts.

The sun set to the happy thump of Cassie’s contented tail on the sandy beach. We were ready to return home, sans chew toys but full of memories and sand. I couldn’t help but glance at Cassie, happily worn out, her usually curled tail lying straight alongside her large build. Her cherished day filled with cookies, friendly banter, beach romping, and an inordinate amount of sun and sand had come to a blissful end.

In Spencerville’s charming way, it had once again, through our lovably stubborn Cassie, tied the community together with a relation stronger than law and as sweet as the cream filling in the town’s best donuts. Ones I often shared with my dearest, loving, dignified mega pug. Another day in the life of Spencervillians, another day with Cassie. Quite the paradox, quite the story.

The End.