Mom, you’ll never guess what happened! Found a spooky portal at Tunnel Paw with Rex, Cocoa, and Mabel. We ended up in a creepy alternate Spencerville with just pizza crusts and whispers! Solved it with bravery, courage, and sniffs—now we’re back, tail-wagging as ever! Tell you more when I see you.

Love, Little Man

You’ll never believe what happened the other day. There I was, just minding my own business, fluffing up my fur and getting ready for a jaunt to Bulldog Bay with my best stuffed buddy, Ruby. The morning started off as dandy as ever in Spencerville. I visited The Wagging Tail Bookstore to catch up on the latest issue of “Bone-Appetite Monthly” and had a quick stop at Pup-Tastic Pizza for a sniff of their new liverwurst special. I’ve got a nose for delicacies, you know.

Now, the real excitement began when I met up with my pals at Golden Gate Gardens. Rex the German Shepherd was there, flexing his muscles, Mabel the Pug was chasing her tiny tail, and Cocoa the Golden Retriever was trying to dig up a bone she buried last week—no chance of finding that, but points for effort.

All of a sudden, a baffling aroma hit us—a mix of old tennis shoes and, dare I say, squirrel. Our tails went into a tizzy. Rex muttered, “That’s peculiar, fellas. That smell’s coming from Tunnel Paw.” Tunnel Paw is an old, crusty dog tunnel at the edge of town, seldom visited and often whispered about.

“Hold your tails, boys and Mabels,” I chirped. Curiosity piqued, I led the parade toward Tunnel Paw. Rex, with his bravery, Cocoa with her unending enthusiasm, and Mabel—well, Mabel was a sniffer and a half. She could smell a biscuit from three blocks away.

As we entered Tunnel Paw, the air got thick. Spooky thick. And there it was—the source of the whiff—a large, eerie portal glowing brighter than the eyes of a cat who just saw the can opener. I nuzzled Ruby close for luck and stepped close, with the others at my tail.

“Crikey, it’s like the cat overlords have opened up a vortex to the great yarn ball in the sky!” Rex exclaimed, poking his nose bravely toward the glow.

“We must be Fancy Feast crazy,” Mabel yelped, her eyes wide.

“Fear not,” I declared, doing my best impression of a heroic hound. “We investigate! For Spencerville!”

As it turns out, stepping through the portal was like jumping into a dream—one minute you’re on a leash, the next you’re the king of Steak Street! We arrived at an alternate Spencerville, where instead of perfectly groomed tails and fun, there were ghastly shadows and eerie quiet. Even the Pup-Tastic Pizza had crusts—JUST the crusts!

“Well bite my biscuit,” Cocoa groaned, her snout twitching at the ghostly contrails left by other dogs.

We gathered our barks together and made a pact right then and there—to solve this mystery and get back to our beloved, perfect Spencerville. We skittered through dark alleys, passing spooky versions of our favorite haunts like Fetch-N-Bites, now Fetch-N-Frights, and even The Pampered Pooch Salon, now The Haggard Hound’s Hideaway.

Our journey took us to East Pug Palace where the Puggy Prophet resided—an ancient pug with wrinkles deep as a freshly dug paw hole. His wisdom was as ripe as Oscar’s discarded kibble. “Beware,” he growled theatrically, “for you are in Spooksville! To return, you must unite three tails of bravery, one nose of courage, and a heart as stout as Ruby’s stuffing.”

“That’s us!” I piped up, fluffing my cloud-like fur. We had what it took: Bravery from Rex, courage from me, and Cocoa’s nose (Mabel contributed her giddy spirit.) United, we pushed through the darkness and faced creatures foul and fuzzy. Ruby, with her oddly serene chicken face, seemed to guide us through every ghostly turn.

Finally, we reached the heart of Spooksville—a gigantic fire hydrant with tendrils of mist circling it. “Sniff the hydrant, lads and lady!” Rex commanded. We all took a mighty whiff and…poof!

Next thing we knew, we were back in the warmth of Golden Gate Gardens. Spencerville was back to its charming self—shiny fur, wagging tails, and the ever-welcome aroma of Pup-Tastic Pizza’s liverwurst special floating through the air.

“What a tail,” Cocoa sighed, rolling onto her back in relief.

“Something to howl about, indeed,” I grinned, holding Ruby tighter than ever.

We pledged never to forget our bizarre jaunt into Spooksville but made a collective vow—no more spooky business. Back to the games, the liverwurst, and Tug-of-War triumphs, with Ruby ever at my side.

And so life in Spencerville continued, each day a celebration of tails wagged, friends cherished, and unforgettable adventures. After all, as long as Ruby and my pals were by my side, every day was a treat.

The End.