Hey Mama,

Just another day in Spencerville. Been barking, biting, and saving the world with my crew – furry but brave! Chased a few cats, decoded a couple of antique human machines, even stared down the rain. It’s not all gloom here you know, dogs have taken over and we are doing alright.

Miss you heaps though. Promise to find a way to you, because even a dog-ged hero like me needs his mom. Until then, whoof you!

-Jasperoni

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Well, there I was under the shadow of the Siberian Summit, whiskers twitching at the wind. It wasn’t everyday the world took a tumble into catastrophe, but Jasper – that dashing black and white creature of intrigue – was at home in such circumstances. Even in the post-apocalyptic afterlife, he found his way to true protagonism. You see, Spencerville had changed. The catastrophe had turned it into a world out of dreams, both good and bad. For Jasper, however, every thorn had a rose.

He was sitting at Bark and Bites, chewing on his favourite jerky-style treat wrapped in a fine layer of cheese, a sight to behold. “I say, old chaps,” he whined to his furry squad, “Even in these precarious times, the chef doesn’t disappoint.”

The squad, absorbing the ambiance of the dim canine café, woofed in agreement. Alfie, with his small tongue peeping, had to control his drool. Oh, the delicacies of Spencerville.

The day was bleak, the sky marred with a large, unending shade of red. The rain, once our hero’s nemesis, was now a forgotten stranger. “Rain,” mused Jasper, “it would be a delight to watch, if only it didn’t feel like a tremendous buzzkill.”

Soon, they ventured to the Howling Husky Hardware Store. The crew needed gear, especially Bonzi who had developed a fascination for exploring the intricate mechanisms of the old world. A little knowledge of bolts and screws in a world that had gone topsy-turvy, after all, wasn’t such a terrible thing.

As the night drew over Spencerville, stories were told, games were played, and dreams of the old world haunted them. Our squad nestled closer to each other near the Retriever River for warmth, their tails wagging in hushed whispers.

Jasper never liked the water, but he enjoyed the serene view of the river, the whispering leaves, the stars reflecting on the surface almost as if they were swimming on the river bed. Looking at the Black Bulldog Bay from afar, he murmured in Daphne’s ears, “Remember the days, dear sister, when we were afraid of a little water and now, it’s all that separates us from the wild yonders.”

“Yes brother,” Daphne quietly responded, “In the twilight of all things, it feels like a new dawn is breaking, where we dogs rule and humans don’t. It’s almost…perfect.”

Spencerville was different now. It was tough but livable, harsh but nurturing, post-apocalyptic yet in its own strange way, utopian. It was their world now, they were its civilization, rebuilding it slowly, one bark at a time. Even with the catastrophe, it was home. After all, a dog’s kingdom isn’t just his backyard but where his pack is, right? And our protagonist, Jasper, was ready to rule, rain or no rain, water, or no water, apocalypse or not.

He knew, one doggie day, at some dog-gone point of time, he would be united with his human. Until then, let the adventures continue in Spencerville!

The End.

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