Hey Mom,

Just a quick tail wag from Spencerville! Lived my best pup life today: channeled my inner fashionista, played referee between flowers and bees at the gardens, and had an unspoken convo with a chic chicken bone. Miss you more than a squirrel misses acorns. Tail wags and dreamy doggy thoughts until we meet again over the Rainbow Bridge.

Licks and love,
Lulu 🐾💕

If you could see Spencerville, you’d say it was like an impressionist painting brought to life, all hazy light and sun-drenched color – except, of course, the day starts not with a sunrise, but with what I like to call the *edible* dawn. And I, good folks, am Lucy, your affable bulldog tour guide through a slice of my life here.

I awoke to the fragrant bouquet of Pup-Cakes, the wafting scent that signaled another dazzling day. The sun winked at me from where it hung low over the Yellow Tan Dalmatian Desert, as if to say, “Get a move on, old girl!” One does not ignore such celestial cues, much like one does not simply walk past an unguarded ham sandwich.

The minute I set paw outside, life began to bustle around me. Terriers on bicycles, a Dalmatian painting polka dots on the pavement – entirely normal happenings here, rest assured.

I strolled down to Furrific Fried Chicken, savoring the crisp morning air that was far superior to the human equivalent, filled as theirs is with deadlines rather than dandelion seeds. Munching on some scrumptious fried treats – an establishment serving boneless delights, mind you, lest we all remember why we’re in Spencerville – I contemplated the agenda.

With a deep appreciation for color coordination, I made rounds at Canine Couture Clothing where remarks on fashion swirled like the skirts on a Flamenco dancer. “Isn’t the fabric divine?” one shop attendant offered, to which I could only wag in profound agreement.

Afterward, a venture to the Golden Gate Gardens was in order. Now, to say it’s not Eden would be like saying caviar isn’t quite fishy; it’s a riot of flora where a pet can take in all the scents without the urge to fertilize them.

An attempt to round up a playdate at The Doggie Daycare was foiled – not every beastie is as free-spirited as yours truly, you understand. But the beauty of Spencerville is there’s never a shortage of lovely souls to consort with.

I passed Boxer Beach, where the water retained the vivid traces of sunset all day and volleyball nets stood tall, just begging for a game. I’d indulge, but one risks getting sand in unmentionable crevices, and we of refined countenance must maintain a degree of decorum.

The rest of the day unfolded in a satisfying sequence of hellos and how-are-yous. We’re a tight-knit community, us Spencerville residents. And while we may indulge in the whimsy of our human-like fantasy, it all hides a soft-spoken truth; we miss our people. Yet we sparkle with the hope of a grand reunion, someday, over the Rainbow Bridge.

Towards the day’s end, I lounged by the pool, ruminating over the delightful nonsense that had cavorted through the day. Bella and Blue would no doubt pen paeans about it. My dear companions, thinkers, and yarn-spinners, each with their own way of seasoning the day.

Returning home, I contemplated over my still coveted orange pull toy – a stalwart reminder of past and future victories. And though I’m in a town of eternal afternoons and never-ending treats, there’s a little corner of my heart that always seems to be saving a spot.

That’s all for now. When you live in Spencerville, there’s always another tale just pawsteps away. And I, Lucy, am but one character in an endless anthology of animal anecdotes, waiting, with warmth and a sly smile, for the next savory chapter to unfold.

The End.