Hey Mom,

Just wanted to let you know that I’ve unexpectedly become a time-traveling canine historian thanks to the Whisker-Woo! I’ve played fetch with dinosaurs and charmed Queen Liz’s court with my wag. But don’t worry, my heart belongs in Spencerville, with you and Lucee. See you in the now, which is pretty pawesome if you ask me. Tail wags and face licks!

Zaneyboy 🐾✨

Well hello there, beloved human—Zane here, wagging my tail across the vast tapestry of time. Oh, the stories I could unleash, if only you could understand the woofs and whines that enshroud my noble snout! But let’s not bark up that tree; instead, I shall regale you with my most peculiar adventure, one that tumbles through the ages like a much-beloved Kong ball across the meadows of eternity.

It was a Tuesday, or at least I believe it was a Tuesday, for time in Spencerville operates on a rather curious paws-and-effect basis. The day was as crisp as a fresh strip of bacon, and I found myself meandering near South Poodle Pond, musing philosophically about whether a stick thrown in the Neolithic stayed thrown in the Neolithic. That’s when I stumbled upon it—or rather, it thwacked me squarely in the snout—a contraption unlike any hydrant or mailman I’ve previously encountered.

They call it the Whisker-Woo, a name I devised myself as its actual name is quite a tongue-twister too cumbersome for our canine kind. It was a box—not for confinement, mind you, but for exploration—a wardrobe to Narnia for the tail-wagging brethren. A bitten corner door swung upon my nudge, and like any good dog, my curiosity beckoned me forth.

One paw after another, I stepped inside the Whisker-Woo. A scent of ancient bones and future frisbees filled my nostrils, an aroma unbearably enticing for a pooch of my intellect and wanderlust. To my astonishment, the inner sanctum was far roomier than the fetch field at Bulldog Bay, a testimony to its impossible nature.

With a snort and a curious paw on what I imagined to be the navigational bone—my assumptions were often right; just ask Lucee, who’s seen it firsthand—the Whisker-Woo shuddered, and time itself seemed to wag its long, intangible tail. My first stop, or should I say hop, was Dinotopia, a land where the bark was most certainly worse than the bite, considering who was doing the barking at the time. There I stood, a noble beast of Spencerville, amidst the lizard-lords of a forgotten yesteryear. My brindle coat blended splendidly with the dappled prehistoric ferns as I pondered, “Would they fancy a game of fetch, or am I the stick in this scenario?”

Ah, but the restless spirit of a Mastiff is not one to lie down (except in sunbeams or on inconveniently placed laundry). So, once more into the breech—or in this case, the floppy-eared vortex—until the Whisker-Woo deposited me with a less-than-dainty plop into the court of Queen Elizabeth herself. Her corgis, stout and somewhat stumped by my grand stature, rallied around me as I relayed tales of Spencerville with enthusiastic barks and boisterous play. The Virgin Queen, amiable host that she was, offered a bounty of peanut butter smidgens that I, in noble humility, accepted.

Yet, even the glitter and gaiety of the court grew tiresome for a dog with a heart as deep as the Mariana. Home, I instinctively knew, was where my paws sank into familiar soil, where Lucee would wait with an impish glint in her eye, and where my Kong ball, though bereft of its former glory, held the scent of a thousand sunny afternoons.

So, here I am, back in my own Spencerville backyard, or backyard-adjacent due to the Whisker-Woo’s occasional lack of precision. While I yearn not for vacuums or thunderstorms, I do yearn, oh so profoundly, for the simple joy of the here and now. That, my beloved human, is the most wondrous of tales—the legend of a Time-Traveling Mastiff, who knows that every moment is a precious scratch behind the ears of eternity.

And there you have it, a small sniff at the epic saga of yours truly, Zane, faithful companion, and accidental time-traveller. A woof-tastic testament that sometimes, the greatest adventures are just a wag away.

The End.