Hey Dad,

Just a quick pupdate from Spencerville. I’m the bulldog about town, wagging my way through adventures with Fat Russell at my side. We’re living it up from The Bark Shak to Black Bulldog Bay, making legends out of ordinary days. The echo of your laughter is my guiding star. Until our paws cross paths again, I hold down the fort as the town’s four-legged knight.

Miss you more than a steak on veggie day.

Bubs 🐶✨

There’s a certain quaintness to the way the morning sun beams dance through the windows of Spencerville, painting Choco Chihuahua Castle with strokes of gold and amber. A morning like this calls for a saunter down Main Street, or maybe it’s more of a waddle. The sidewalks here, they remember the pitter-patter of my paws— no, the hefty thuds if I’m honest. It’s Bentley, by the way, the one and only, the bulldog of boundless bravado.

But let me confess, I never really enjoyed the solitude. A chap needs his entourage, doesn’t he? That’s why there’s Fat Russell. You know Russell, a bit on the round side but good as gold. “Mornin’, Russ,” I bark, “looks to be a real good one.” His tail wagging’s enough to set shop windows to shivering, I swear.

We parade to The Bark Shak, ’cause it’s that kind of morning, the breakfast sort. And oh, the sheer delight of sniffing out that perfect bite! It’s an art, a dance of the senses, but don’t let me near a carrot. Vegetables. I scoff at the very term.

As the sirloin song of the grill serenades my nostrils, a pang hits me. Not hunger, no, I’m well acquainted with that sensation, but this’s different. It’s him, Dad. The guardian of my once earthen exploits—with hands so gentle they could lull the moon to sleep, and laughter warm enough to cradle the sun. There’s an ache, a yearning. But Spencerville’s whispers soothe, telling that he’s okay and so am I—that one day we’ll be two peas in a pod again.

Now, let me guide you through the high drama of a Spencerville day. It’s more than just biscuits and belly rubs round here. The clatter of Howling Husky Hardware speaks of toils and troubles, sometimes a loose screw or a nail gone astray. Best in Show Photography tells stories of yesteryears, glossy prints aglow with splendor of days dappled in sun. And let’s not leave out The Barking Boutique, a garb gallery for the furry and the fabulous.

Fat Russell and I, we’ve got our routine down to a science. A bit of tug-of-war here, a roughhousing rendezvous there— it’s the ebb and flow of our furry family drama. But a kinship like ours is more than games, deeper than the snack bowl. When bandits of boredom loom, we set courses for the shores of Black Bulldog Bay, but you won’t catch me dipping paw in pool. Water’s not my notion of frolic, far from it.

The sand beneath my toes holds promises and secrets, whispers of far-off lands and the scent of adventure. I fancy myself a knight sometimes, the loyal protector, the unfaltering familiar. Here in Spencerville, I’m more than a memory, I’m legend, a tale waiting in the winds for those who need it most.

Days blend into evenings, and stars twinkle with every story: my charming endeavours, my epic struggles, my earthly loves and now, my Spencerville serenity. Time is but a trivial thing here, only felt in the gentle waxing and waning of anticipation – the soft breath of hope that one day, in the twilight of a heartfelt reunion, my Dad and I will glance upon each other once more. With a nuzzle, a shared silence, we’ll know that every moment apart was but a pause in our endless story.

The End.