Hey Dad,

Just had a big day at the vet, where I confessed my secret love for fruit *and* my feelings for Bella. Turns out, she knew all along! Teddy’s already casting us in a doggy drama. Who knew honesty had such a kick? Paws crossed for whatever’s next!

Tail wags and face licks,
Lil Momma 🐾🍎❤️

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There I was, amidst the humming and buzzing of Spencerville Veterinary Hospital, where the scents of antiseptic and uneaten kibble mingle like an odd couple at a high school prom. It’s the place where I, Kaiya, find myself donning a white coat – metaphorically speaking, because, you know, fur – but today isn’t just any day under the fluorescent lights and beep-boop of heart monitors. No, today I’m pulsing with a vigor that’d give Bulldog Bay’s tide a run for its money. You see, today’s the day I break the news to Bella.

Ah, Bella, with her ears that flap like flags in a windstorm, those eyes that sparkle like Collie Canyon under a full moon – she’s the kind of dog who could make the tail on a Husky spin like a top. We’ve danced around this topic like two pups unsure if the other’s growl is playful or precursory to a nip. But it’s time, time to conquer the nerves, to tread where no dog has trod before.

I saunter past The Dapper Dog Salon, resisting the urge to peek at my reflection – “vanity”, they call it, a trait I have yet to master or desire to. Whisking through the sliding doors, my paws click-clack on the linoleum as if to beat out the rhythm of my racing heart. I’m a cocktail of excitement and dread – for who knows how the world will tip when declarations spill like Fishy Bites from a torn bag?

We’re in the break room; the scent of reheated Fur Tacos lingers like a memory. Bella’s lounging by the water cooler, and Teddy, well, he’s just Teddy, a fortress of calm perched on a tiny stool, his mug’s gargantuan beside him like a watering hole.

Without a preamble – because who needs one when life’s as short as a Chihuahua’s attention span – I plunge into the depths: “Bella, I’ve got something to tell you.” My words a blend of force and fumble, a basketball in pause before the dunk.

She cocks her head, tuned in as if I were the Pied Piper and she a musical note awaiting guidance. My voice now a soft growl, coated in the warmth of summer sun on Bulldog Bay’s sands: “I might not despise fruit as much as I led everyone to believe. It’s a façade, much like this cool composure I brandish – a thinly-veiled cover for the storm inside.”

Teddy chokes on his drink, a guttural sound that could well be mistaken for laughter, yet I press on, feelings tumbling out like I’ve upended my toy box of emotions: “And it’s not just about the fruit, Bella. It’s about us. In a town where every day can be an adventure, where misfits dine on Doggy Donuts and laughter echoes through the halls of Fawn Pug Palace, I want… No, I need you by my side.”

I’m unveiled, my truth laid bare upon the linoleum altar with more nerves exposed than during an open-heart surgery. But this, my friend, is the anatomy of a pet’s heart, a creature born of loyalty, nurtured by love, and braced for whatever comes next. Silence folds around us like a blanket. Bella nods, a slight upturn of her snout, a gesture ripe with more words than Best in Show Photography could capture.

“I knew about the fruit,” she finally speaks, a gentle ribbing that makes my tail wag with the ferocity of a helicopter blade.

There’s a shift in the air, a palpable change as if someone’s turned up the thermostat, and the break room suddenly feels like the cosy corner of Doggy Donuts. And Teddy? He’s gone from being the serene mastiff to the director of our soap opera, nudging us closer with a conspiratorial wink. “You kids,” he mutters, and we’re actors on a stage set by fate, about to embark on the finest scenes our paws have yet to write.

In Spencerville, where the departed waltz in the human-like grace of their second act, love is a story whispered in the ears of those willing to tune in – and today, it’s our turn to listen.

The End.

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