Hey Dad,

Just checking in from Spencerville – I’ve traded chasing my tail for shaking paws with wisdom at the Woof and Whisker Wellness Center. Found the courage to share Possum with Molly, feeling like a pupsicle melting into a better version of me. Can’t wait to show you my new tricks and treats. Spencerville is teaching this old dog new dreams.

Snuggles and tail wags,
Rocdog 🐾

Welcome to Spencerville. Picture it – a place where the sidewalks are always warm, the fire hydrants plentiful, and every snack you’ve ever dreamt of is just a bark away. That’s where I found myself one sun-soaked morning, a stout little fellow with a coat that’s equal parts cinnamon and dusk. Call me Rocco.

The Southern Golden Retriever River glistened in the distance, but I, with an ear perked up and a tail curled like the last page of a book you don’t want to end, had plans. Spencerville isn’t just about chasing your tail into perpetuity, you see. It’s more, much more. It’s where you learn the ropes, again, for the day you see your favorite human.

It’s my first day at Spencerville’s most exclusive spot for self-improvement: The Woof and Whisker Wellness Center. Being a bit of a bulldog about things, I’ve got a stubborn streak as wide as a Great Dane is tall, and I need to work on that. My mission, should I choose to accept it, and I do, is to become better at…well, just better.

I trot into the Center, Possum in mouth. You know Possum, my trusty toy that squeaks like a promise of endless excitement? It’s coming with me on this new adventure. The Center is run by a Doberman with a PhD in pet psychology — her name is Dr. Pawsitive. She’s got this leather-bound book where she writes all the breakthroughs. A poet she is not, but she means well.

“Rocco, is it?” her snout barely breaks a smile, and she scribbles something that I suspect says, ‘Shows up with toy, emotionally attached, good sign.’

I’m introduced to the group. There’s a Persian cat with an identity crisis and a Chihuahua with anger issues. I tell you, this group is a real slice of the pet pie.

Our first session is about sharing and not just the latest gossip about the wonky wiener dog that runs The Fetching Feline Pet Emporium. Sharing toys, sharing space, sharing attention. You know I’ve never been one to back down from a wrestle, and this ‘turn the other cheek’ business is new to me.

“Rocco, would you like to start by offering Possum to Molly?” Dr. Pawsitive’s voice is smooth, like the gravy on last Thanksgiving’s meal back when the world was less… floaty.

Molly, the black and white shih tzu with eyes like olives plopped in martini glasses, saunters over. I freeze. Share Possum? That’s like asking the sun to share the sky with the moon. But, before I know it, I’ve done it. I’ve dropped Possum, and Molly is tossing it up in the air like it’s her graduation day. I feel…odd. Lighter, somehow.

Days at Spencerville are episodic like that – just vignettes of a lesson learned, one tail wag at a time. I’ve come to enjoy Yappy Yogurt on Thursdays and a good bone from Fishy Bites on Saturdays – though I skip the veggies, thank you very much.

As I lay by the crackling fire in Brown Boxer Beach’s communal hearth, with my cohorts snuggled nearby, I reflect. The rain outside doesn’t bother me anymore; I’ve got towel rubs a-plenty here. The vacuum? Just a whisper among the gusts. And loneliness? What’s that?

I guess in Spencerville, there’s only so much room for stubbornness when there’s so much learning – and living – left to do. My name’s Rocco, and maybe, just maybe, I’m already better. And when that reunion day comes, oh, what a tale I’ll have to wag.

Good night, Spencerville. See what adventures tomorrow brings.

The End.

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