Hey Dad,

Having a woof of a time here in Spencerville. Leading the pack at the vet hospital, grabbing drool-worthy breakfasts, and enjoying the paw-some company. Miss you tons, but know we’ll run towards each other in the big park someday. Until then, remember me every time you see a wagging tail or sniff strong coffee.

Much love,
Test Dog

Listen to the story here

I was up early, an ungodly hour for Spencerville (where frankly, every hour is godly). The sun wasn’t fully up, nor was my spirit. My cinnamon-brown eyes squinted against the morning sunlight that had crept in through the window of my loft at Bullmastiff Boardwalk. I needed coffee. You might think it funny, a dog needing coffee, but trust me, when you work in a veterinary hospital in pet heaven, coffee is a need.

I could still smell the distinct aroma of Pup-Peroni, drifting through my neighborhood. Dressed in my periwinkle white coat – yes, we have coats here, fashion is as important as a healthy tail – I sauntered, my tail wagging with familiar morning enthusiasm, basking in the splendor of Spencerville.

As the town yawned awake, I trotted past The Wagging Tail Bookstore, taking in the sight of the morning crowd, the city in a bustle of activity. The colorful city posters bleeding their hues onto the stone walkways reflecting our vibrant life here, always made my heart leap.

But, let’s get real, my day truly began at Paws On The Grill. Ah, the scent of sizzling sausages and bacon, wafting drool-inducing deliciousness in the air, was enough to get any dog’s tail wagging. Breakfast, my favorite love-hate relationship. Why? Because every bite I savored came with the mortifying dread of facing the Spencerville Veterinary Hospital scales. Despite this, I’d order my usual, a steaming plate of puppies-ghetti and meatballs garnished with a side of bacon.

I tend to chew on relatable situations and Pup-Peroni is often a pit stop after a tiring rotation. Our town camaraderie is exactly like that – you can rely on companionship when things are ruff.

Being a perfectly normal, albeit dashing labrador in charge of the Spencerville Veterinary Hospital came with its ups and downs. The only static thing about it was the constant change.

Everyday dealt a different hand. And even though I had a team that exemplified the true meaning of ‘lap of luxury,’ and my slightly tattered stick was my metaphorical safety helmet, no day at the hospital was a walk in the park. Or, in this case, a run on Brindle Beach.

Then came the fire siren – boy, I hated that sound. But that was part of the deal here. For every siren wail, for every pet that looked scared and confused, there was a circle of friends, a furry support system on standby, ready to huddle around and extend comfort, in that quietly understanding, no-words-needed dog way.

As for my family, scattered all over, we connected in ways only our hearts knew. We carried Spencerville within us – full of dogs, cats, pet variety galore – all bound by the pact of an afterlife filled with pure joy, waiting ‘til someday we’d be reunited with those we missed.

And in the end, isn’t Spencerville just that? A vast grassy expanse of endless fetch, a kaleidoscope of scents, waiting with wagging tails for that final reunion. It’s almost perfect – just about as perfect as my morning coffee with an extra shot of cream.

The End.