Hey Mom,

Guess what? I became a four-legged diplomat today, turning a potential UFO debacle in Cream Maltese Meadow into a tail-wagging intergalactic festival! I’m now Zane, the Brindle Ambassador of Bark and Peace. Spencerville’s First Contact was a success – no hydrants were vaporized, and we got some cool bark-to-English tech out of it. More deets when you get home!

Wags and woofs,
Zaneyboy 🐾✨🛸

Listen to the story here

Diary of a Dapper Dog: The Spencerville Chronicles, Episode One – “Bark to the Stars”

Okay, so imagine this – one minute you’re enjoying a well-deserved nap on your favorite patch of sun-warmed grass, and the next, there’s a UFO landing gear marking up your freshly mowed Cream Maltese Meadow. That’s the kind of day I was having.

No biggie, right? Wrong. Because apparently, these extraterrestrial party crashers didn’t get the memo about Spencerville being a pet paradise, not a free-for-all intergalactic parking lot.

Now, the residents of Spencerville are no strangers to peculiar happenings; after all, we’ve got a bakery that exclusively bakes bacon-flavored cupcakes. But alien invasions? They’re not covered in the town charter.

As the town’s self-appointed (because, well, who else would do it?) guardian-mastiff, I knew it was up to me to set things straight. Which meant I needed my trusty Kong ball and a dollop of that peanut butter bravado.

As I trotted towards the humming spaceship, determined but with a casual air, I could hear gasps from the sidelines. The Pawfect Training Center had emptied out, and every pup and their kitty companion were watching. My social ballet was about to get an interstellar twist.

Eyes narrowed, shoulders squared, feeling like a four-legged John Wayne with fur, I approached the unsettlingly sleek vessel. The hatch opened like a jaw, and out popped the weirdest looking squirrel I’d ever seen – except it wasn’t a squirrel, obviously. It was hues of green I had only seen in my weirdest drool-drenched dreams, with antennae that could probably pick up satellite TV.

I felt a shiver through my brindle coat. But not shyness, oh no – the type of shiver you get right before you lunge for a particularly elusive tennis ball.

“Zane,” it squawked in a voice that sounded like a chew toy getting run over by a lawn mower, “we come in – er, peace?”

I tilted my head, my legendary sniffer twitching. They smelled like a combination of Cream Maltese Meadow and something… unknown. “Sounds dubious, pal,” I replied. “Last time something peaceable showed up around here, Lucee ate it. Ever heard of a mouse?”

The being blinked its excessively big eyes and made a noise that I guessed was their version of laughter or possibly indigestion.

While we stood regarding each other in a silent stand-off, a murmuring rolled through the alien crowd behind the green guy. Whispers of “Peanut Butter Paradise,” “Forest of Forever Fetch,” and “The Barkery’s Biscuits.”

My ears pricked up. Could it be? Were these cosmic critters just looking for a chance to chow down and chase some tail?

“Alright, space squiggle,” I said with my usual mix of entitlement and eloquent charm, “I’ll cut you a deal. You promise not to vaporize our fire hydrants, and Spencerville will show you the time of your nine lives – or however many you have up in the Milky Way.”

To cut to the chase, what unfolded next was nothing short of a cosmic carnival. The aliens agreed to my terms hastily (the mention of unlimited Yappy Yogurt treats might’ve sweetened the deal), and before long, they were mingling with the locals, tossing my Kong ball with their tentacle thingamajigs, and learning the fine art of the belly rub.

Heck, even Lucee, my feline sidekick, offered her expertise in negotiating optimum napping spots – for a modest price of tuna, of course. She’s got the heart of a hustler, that one.

The invasion turned from a threat to a full-blown intergalactic shindig, and I became an ambassador of sorts – or at least that’s what they told me. Could’ve just been hype to keep me from drooling on their space boots, but I’ll take it.

And so, by the time the sky dimmed and the first stars popped out, ready to share their secrets and stories, Spencerville was back to its utopian self, with an added flair of extraterrestrial zest. The aliens even left us a parting gift – a gadget that translated barks into Shakespearean English. Needless to say, it was an instant hit at The Bone Appetit.

They say every dog has its day – but me, Zane the magnificent Brindle English Mastiff of Spencerville, I had mine among the stars. And you better believe every wagging tail and purring furball in town had a front-row seat to the best show on Earth. Or, y’know, just slightly above it.

The End.