Hey Dad,

Think of Spencerville as a dog kingdom – my kingdom. Every day is an adventure, filled with canine politics, fetch court hearings, and tug of war throne games. Sure, we have our own pitstops of horror – ear cleanings, waves, vacuum cleaners – but that’s all part of the thrill. It’s not always a royal rumble, there is joy too, with feasts at Bone Appetit and visits to Dapper Dog Salon. But remember, here in Spencerville, we’re all kings waiting to unite with our true humans. Until then, we wag on!

Cheers,
Russell a.k.a Zubazz

Listen to the story here

As Russell, Spencerville may not seem like a kingdom, but it’s my kingdom and it has its own form of order and tranquility, an elegance that’s beyond the comprehension of many who haven’t experienced it. I may be a dog; I may have toy-destroying tendencies, but I assure you, there’s no political intrigue quite as invigorating as the politics of the Critter Kingdom of Spencerville.

The day usually starts like any other. There’s the sun, playing hide and seek with the dew-embraced leaves of Collie Canyon. There’s me, a jet of white and brown against the greens. There’s Mugsy, a fellow highwayman, ready for another day of adventure. It’s tug of war in the mornings and fetch by afternoons, our own version of court hearings and throne games.

Baker, that old bulldog-gentleman, though rough around the edges, his loyalty is seldom matched, my second-in-command. Spencer, the Pug, is the court jester, his antics often bring laughter to our morning’s play at Western Husky Hill. Reo, quick and wiry, is the ever watchful spy darting around, keeping the kingdom in sight and check. It’s the politics, yes. But it’s politics as done by puppies with tails wagging.

There’s the joy of ruling, and then there’s the thrill of a good hunt. Well, in our case, a delightful run to The Bone Appetit to savor the kingdom’s bounty. The whiff of Prime Rib, Boneless Spare Ribs, and Peanut Butter, textures and tastes merging in an ecstatic symphony in our ruling mouths. The Dapper Dog Salon, groomers to royalty that we are, and, the wagging wonders of the Wagging Tail Bookstore, providing us the strategies of past conquerors.

Yet, not everything in this paradise of Spencerville is smooth rolling. The horrors of ear cleaning visit us, a cleaning mutiny I call it; catapulting me to the edge of my tolerance. The waves on the beach seem enticing but my phobia screams “treason” at their frothy grins, and the uproar of the vacuum cleaner is the rebellion I am yet to quell. Yet, these challenges only serve to spice up the reign of the king. After all, what’s a king without his trials?

You see, life here in Spencerville, as eloquent and thrilling as it can be, is made better with the companionship of the court. They are the Westie Woods to my wilderness, the Doggy Donuts to my mornings, the Fishy Bites to my delights.

That’s my tale, my life, my court, my Spencerville story. The gourmand secret about Spencerville is that it’s no ordinary place, it’s a kingdom for those who know how to rule. It’s a place where we’re all kings, bound by promise of one day uniting with our true masters, our spirit owners, our humans. Until then, we wag, we run, we play, we eat, we rule.

The End.

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