Hey Mom,

Just wanted to say, even though I’m the king of the pooch parade in Spencerville, I miss you and the family tons this Christmas Eve. I went on a magical tail-waggin’ journey tonight with a fluffy angel, saw our best times, and my Spencerville buddies’ capers. Learned my doggy deeds live on in everyone’s hearts! I’m still spreading that Cj joy everywhere. Merry Barkmas! 🎄🐾

Lots of licks,
Bubbie/Cj

Listen to the story here

‘Twas a Christmas Eve in Spencerville, and I, Cj, lay curled upon my cushioned throne in the Fawn Pug Palace, a weariness settling upon me like an unwelcome fog. The spark of my usually undimmable spirit flickered low; you see, I missed my human family, and that nostalgic yearning had become a stubborn cloud obscuring the joy of my legendary adventures.

My thoughts meandered as I reminisced about the echoes of laughter that once filled my ears, the gentle strokes upon my tapestry-like fur, and the merriment of fetching my treasured babies in the sun-kissed world I once roamed. In the human-like existence of Spencerville, we were supposed to frolic to our heart’s content, but the park’s secrets seemed to be whispering tales of loneliness tonight.

It was in this mellow sea of contemplation that I first perceived the shimmering presence by the hearth. Not a threat nor a rival for the savory jerky treats of Bark ‘n’ Roll but a guardian angel with the fluffiest of wingspan and a tail that wagged with the wisdom of ages.

“Spirits down, my tail-wagging chap?” the angelic creature asked, settling beside me as if an old friend readying to embark on our routine evening escapade.

“I must confess,” I replied, my voice a quiet timbre amidst the symphony of howls and barks beyond the walls, “the heart, no matter its size, pines for its counterparts. Does it not?”

“It most certainly does,” nodded the angel. “That is why I, your festive guide, am here. To show you the wags you’ve left behind.”

The world spun, and there we were, in my beloved human’s home. A child cried softly under the twinkling lights of a Christmas tree before my human, kneeling, uttered, “Remember how Cj used to make you laugh? He’s doing grand things now, but he’s here with us, in his own way.”

I saw, not with eyes but with a warmth that spread through me, the influence my zest for life had etched upon my family. In each fond recollection, I was there, my spirit’s tail thumping against the fabric of their lives.

We whisked away, flitting to a time when I defended our land from mail intruders, inciting chuckles from passersby, or with a tenacious leap caught a frisbee, igniting applause from the park-goers. Each memory was a snapshot; I basked in the joyful ripples I had stirred in the world I so loved.

The journey took us further, to the pets I had befriended in Spencerville, each with their own tale of tenacity and love. I watched as they shared stories of our escapades, the solidarity in our dislikes, like our mutual aversion to the dreaded bath time at Spencerville’s finest, Furry Fountains. In camaraderie, we built a haven in this nearly perfect place.

“Your life, my furry fellow, is a storybook etched in the hearts you’ve touched. You’ve made more than an impact; you’ve crafted a legacy,” beamed my heavenly companion.

As the veil of my sorrow lifted, replaced by a heart that thumped with renewed vigor and warmth, I returned to my cushioned throne in the Fawn Pug Palace. A newfound gratitude for my life, both past and ever-present, filled me.

I sat up, shook my noble mane, and stretched my delightfully short legs. A bark escaped me, resonating with the newfound understanding that life, or its thereafter in Spencerville, was a wondrous journey shaped by the love and joy I spread.

“Thank you,” I whispered into the velvet night as my guardian angel faded with a final wag. “It truly is a wonderful bark.”

Filled with good cheer and the spirit of the season, I vowed to carry this lesson forth, sauntering into the morrow ready to embrace the countless adventures that awaited in this canine dream called Spencerville. Here, amidst friends and memories, I’d continue to live a storied day in the life – my own wonderful bark.

The End.

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