Hey Mom,

I’m ruling the vet clinic as Dr. Thor, the savior of squeakers and snout boop specialist! Made friends, faced a trembling Chihuahua, and performed the occasional egoectomy on pompous Pomeranians. Missing your cuddles and our walks, but saving tails and chasing tales until we meet again.

Tail wags and doggy kisses,
Thorcito 🐾

And so it is that I, Thor—the English Bulldog with the charisma of a dapper gentleman and the heart of a lion—find myself entrenched in the noble callings of Spencerville Veterinary Hospital. This is no ordinary animal clinic, my friends. It’s a whirlwind of drama and intrigue, where pets of all kinds come to find solace, healing, and the occasional overly dramatic love affair—all while waiting for that blissful day we’re reunited with you, our cherished humans.

The morning bustle is just as you’d expect. Dog-tors and nurse-cats race down the corridors, paws clacking on the polished floors like a tap dancer with a metronome complex. The hospital walls echo with the earnest sounds of yaps and purrs, all entangled in the life-affirming drama of heroics—and of course, gossip. Because let me dish out the truth, my dear, gossip in Spencerville is as unavoidable as a squirrel is to a leash-bound terrier.

Now, on this particular sparkling day, I waddle purposefully down Collie Canyon, meandering my way to work with the confidence of one who has saved nine lives—and then some. My best friend Gunner tags along, his tongue lolling out in the joviality of the morning sun. He’s a hoot, that one. If I’m the brains of our duo, he’s the tail-wagging enthusiasm. We make quite the pair.

Entering the clinic, I settle at the reception desk, the unofficial center of all the hospital’s happenings. Here, the ebb and flow of patients bring tales of bravery, of sorrow, and occasionally, the dramatic reemergences of long-lost toy balls once thought devoured by the gaping maw of time and underneath-the-couch space.

“Bacon, stat!” I command with the urgency of life and death because, let’s face it, without proper motivation, how does one save lives?

My sibling, Loki, strides sleekly by. His head held high, his German Shepherd pride evident to all. “Good luck with rounds, Dr. Thor,” he smirks in that playful way we siblings do, nudging me with his snout before continuing on his way.

It’s just another day at Spencerville Vet—coding pigeons, emergency belly rubs for the overly-fluffy, and the perplexing cases of indigestion due to shoe in-take. Yet, amid the madness, there’s a calm in knowing each tail wag and purr serves a higher purpose.

But no amount of medical drama can prepare me for the trembling Chihuahua wheeled into my examining room. Her eyes, the diameter of saucers and shimmering with fear, plead for my calm expertise. Together with my trusty stethoscope (decorated with delectable pictures of bacon, I might add, for that personal touch), I channel the wisdom of the great dog-tors before me and set to work.

As I delve into the science of her symptoms, I feel it—the weight of her trust, the responsibility of my role. And like all the residents of Spencerville, I am lost in purpose yet anchored by the love of memories shared with those beyond our quaint utopia.

In between serious diagnoses and the playful romps in Retriever River to clear our heads, we learn lessons here—about ourselves, about life, about the art of a well-timed snout boop. These are the pet-to-pet heartbeats adding a pitter-patter rhythm to the pulsing life of Spencerville Vet.

While I am, without a single doubt, waiting to gaze upon my human’s face once more, I find solace in this shared journey—this picaresque adventure lined with the sort of drama only a haven like Spencerville could nurture.

They say the time we spend in happiness is never wasted, and so, as Spencerville’s most charming veterinarian, I–quick, back to attention! There’s a Pomeranian with an ego thrice the size of his poufy tail in need of a delicate egoectomy.

And so, my tale here continues… because in Spencerville, even a robust English Bulldog like me has a part to play, hearts to warm, and many more tails to… well, you know, chase.

The End.