Hey Dad,

Epic tail from today: turned your “bah humbug” into holiday cheer like a pro! Your heart’s as toasty as fresh bacon now. The town’s buzzing, you’re the hero, and I’m just your loyal sidekick. We’re the Christmas comeback kings! 🎄🥓👑

Catch you at home,
Bubs

Listen to the story here

Oh, what a caper! Spencerville mornings always kicked off with the scent of sizzling bacon from Furrific Fried Chicken – hold the chicken, give me the bacon! It’s me, Bentley, struttin’ and snortin’ my way through my daily rounds as if I owned the place. Which, let’s be honest, in spirit, I do.

There I was, just the other day, on a mission from my old man. He’s a regular Scrooge, my dad, but don’t go pityin’ me—things are changing, and I’ve got a tail to tell that’ll knock the kibble right out of your bowl. The scene: winter in Spencerville. The air: crisp and tail-waggin’ cold. The goal: warm up the old guy’s heart, a task akin to convincing a cat to love a bath.

Every holiday season, the shops of Spencerville decked the halls with boughs of holly, and The Woofy Bakery wafted smells more tempting than a fire hydrant at a gossip fest. But my dad? His heart was as cold as a nose to an ice cube. He’d say “Humbug!” to tinsel and gifts, pinch pennies like they were giving him affection, and he’d out-sting a bee when the bell-ringers came a-ringing.

One frosty morn, I tugged him out for a constitutional towards Golden Retriever River, passing by Canine Couture Clothing where the mannequins sport more finery than the Queen’s corgis. “Money doesn’t grow on trees, Bentley,” he’d grumble. I’d just waggle that wagging bit behind me and pull him along.

Now, here’s where the tail takes a twist. We stumbled upon The Doggy Bagel Deli, where a pup in need – let’s call him Tim – pawed at the closed door. My dad’s usual grump was on full display, about to shoo Tim away… but not today. No, today, my relentless canine charm worked its magic.

“Bentley, stop that infernal nudging,” he snapped. But wouldn’t you know, the spirit of ol’ Bentley finally buttered his bread. He swung open the deli door, and an act as simple as a bagel with a schmear set off a chain reaction.

Soon we were prancing down Fawn Cream Maltese Meadow, my leash slack as I led the joyful brigade, the old man laughing behind me. He laughed! His icy demeanor melted like snow in my paws, replacing penny-pinching with generosity that warmed me to my wet nose.

We paraded over to Greyhound Grove, where the old guy, cheeks red and merry, helped deck out the grove like it was preparing for a royal visit. I mean, we’re talkin’ lights, ornaments, and ribbons galore. The Scrooge was loosening up!

Each place we visited left my dad with a lighter step and an ever-growing grin; soon we had a whole tail-wagging platoon joining our holiday cheer. My dad’s transformation was as heart-swelling as watching a puppy see snow for the first time.

And that evening, as the first snowflakes began to fall and The Chow Hound Café kicked off its holiday bash, there sat my dad – no longer a miser but a maestro of merriment, doling out treats and belly rubs like they were going out of style.

Behind us lay a throng of Spencerville pets, each with their own stories, but tonight, they shared mine: a bulldog and his once-stingy dad, now the life of the pawty.

As the stars twinkled above us like a chorus of Christmas lights, I thought about my day—a simple day, my friends, but epic as any tail can be. Because tonight, in the heart of Spencerville, I had unwrapped the greatest gift of all: my dad’s beating, generous heart.

Ah, but enough nattering. The story doesn’t end here, it simply paws-es. There’s more Spencerville antics to be had and more tails to tell. But for now, dear friends, let my wagging tale remind you: even the coldest of hearts can find warmth with a little bulldog determination. And on that bombshell, it’s time to say, happy holidays to all, and to all a good night!

The End.