Hey Mom,

Guess who just turned hero in Spencerville? Me! Bella saved the day (and Retriever River) from The Vacuum with charm, an apple, and a pinch of dachshund daring. They’re singing my praises! Turns out, even a little Bella Boo Bear can make a big splash. Talk about an adventure!

Love, Bella 🐾💪🍏

Listen to the story here

Sunrise in Spencerville spills champagne light across the land, tangling with the hedges of Westie Woods and glinting off the waves at Boxer Beach. I woke up to this very scene, and let me tell you, it’s a sight that makes even the toughest day feel like the eve of a weekend. I’m Bella, by the way. You might know me—the mini dachshund with a penchant for apples and the sort of heroics that make you think twice about what “little” really means.

Today was no saunter in the park. No, sir. Rumor snuffled its way through the ground that Retriever River had run dry. Now, I may not be the sort to make speeches at Pup ‘n’ Go Taco Joint, but disasters, my friends, call for a cape. And maybe a bit of that Tigger bravado. So there I stood, poised on the threshold of my den, ready to dart into action.

But first, breakfast. A hero fights not on an empty stomach. I popped over to Bark ‘n’ Roll, savored an omelette whisked to fluffy perfection, and listened in on the fretting furballs. “It’s the work of The Vacuum,” they whispered, naming that fearsome fiend we all dread—the eater of all things, the harbinger of hush.

“Just Bella,” I quipped, wearing a smile to fool the fear inside my heart. “Ready for a little dirt-digging.”

Chores aren’t much to wag about, but to save Retriever River, I’d tunnel to Timbuktu and back. With a heroic leap (executed with dachshund dignity, naturally), I plunged into the sun-dappled streets.

Ah, the drama of daylight doings. Through Westie Woods I scampered, ducked into dog-sized doorways, probably a touch more graceful than needed. Through every frond and fern, I sniffed out the fiend. Whispers at The Pampered Pooch Salon suggested dark deeds at dawn. Their tidings led my tiny feet to the water’s edge, where a sinister silence hung heavy.

There it was: The Vacuum, a menace to the merry, a vortex void. I pawed closer; mischief called to me. With a tug of war tail-chase, I plunged into a plucky scheme.

I hatched a plan of dachshundoverous dimensions. Its sheer cheek clung to the thought that an apple a day keeps The Vacuum at bay. And so I pranced back to Fetch! Toys and Treats, whipped a wink at the proprietor, and fetched—what else?—an apple, crisp as the autumn air.

Back at the river—or where it should have been—I faced The Vacuum. The stand-off was like the tingle before tickles, the gasp before the giggle. With a firm fling, I tossed the apple into the maw. Shocked by the snack, the fiend faltered, fumbled, and with a thunderous belch, it spat the water back. Retriever River rippled once more.

The cheer that rippled through Spencerville was a chorus of barks, a medley of meows. Tails twirled in delight. Bella, the bite-sized hero, had vanquished the villain with verve.

And as the day dwindled, I stretched in the soft loam, basking in the buzz of post-heroics coziness. I’m no hound for the headlines, but a little recognition tickled my belly as they sang:

“Here’s to Bella, an apple in paw,
Saved our spirits, left us in awe.
She dug through the doldrums, battled The Vacuum’s dread,
Brought back joy, brought back the riverbed!”

Dusk lay down cover, and I turned homeward, content in the knowledge that for every problem, however colossal, there’s a solution, however small. Being alone wasn’t so lonely when you’ve got a town full of pals.

And thus ends a day in the life of Bella—Stubborn, sure. Small, certainly. But a superhero? Just maybe. For in Spencerville, even a mini dachshund can cast a shadow large enough to shelter all the furry hearts waiting for that grand reunion.

The End.