Hey Dad,

Just another day on the beat: saved a pug from a fashion faux pas, witnessed culinary abominations, and chased a couple of wanderlust beagles. Some days I miss the wild freedom of the mountains, but city life in good ol’ Spencerville isn’t half bad. After all, it’s always season for belly rubs and steaks!

Perce – Your Fur-nomenal Protector.

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Like a well-worn shaggy throw pillow, Spencerville, my quaint little haven, demanded natural love and chaos. That’s where I worked. As a roly-poly, scruffy cop dog with a heart as wide and as embracing as the Southern Golden Retriever River, I made the town my own.

I’m Percy, that’s right. And I did my fair share of keeping our wholesome town safe – doing everything from rounding up wayward terriers halfway to Westie Woods or chasing Beagles who’ve lost their way in Lower Dalmatian Desert. Yes, I endured my time in the sands and brushed off the prickly undergrowth. A task some might say is far fetched – pun intended.

And oh, the inhabitants, they knew me. Of course, who could overlook an Entlebucher Mountain Dog the size of a snowplow? When I’d mosey into my favourite haunts, Fetch-N-Bites and Bark ‘n’ Roll, the smell of steak and cod wafting through the air was a treat!

I’ve seen bizarre things; I once hauled a persnickety pug out of a shoe he decided to call his new home. You could see its hind legs and tail swinging as I rushed to the owner, “Madam, your footwear is making a rather peculiar fashion statement.” But hey, to each their own, I’m not one to judge – that lettuce and tuna casserole the Siamese twins at The Barking Boutique prefer is nothing short of culinary blasphemy to me.

However, no matter the shenanigans I witness, I still feel the pang of longing for the mountains, the water, the wild where I’d unleash my inner swimming beast and run like a hare in the undergrowth. City clamor? Not for me. My tail between my legs and ears pinned back, I hightail faster than a Weimaraner spotting a squirrel.

You’ll hear tall tales about bravery here, about battles against vacuums and mailmen and salads – oh, the horror of greens! Remember the face of bravery is often a cringing pup, and unconditional love often thumps its tail on the floor as it eyes the last piece of steak on your plate.

Ah, Spencerville, you stir my soul. Constantly buzzing with mesmeric chaos and paired with the hope of reuniting with our loved ones. Just another day in the life of a pet cop, where joy is belly rubs, popsicles, and unconditional companionship. You know life ain’t half bad when you live it in Spencerville.Close your eyes, breathe in, can you smell the kibble?

The End.

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