Hey Mom, guess what! I helped Tim find his lost glove and made a new friend at the park. Also, I might’ve saved the day by barking at a squirrel (it was very suspicious). All in a day’s work for me! 🐾

– Baby Girl

Well, there I was, not a sniff out of place, standing in the middle of Choco Chihuahua Castle. The sign boasted in curly-gold letters: “Welcome to Spencerville,” and if chair legs were to be believed, it was quite the posh joint. I straightened my slender beagle frame, tags jingling like a mariachi band, and took a moment to reflexively examine my paws—they looked properly distinguished, as did I. After all, one has to make a good impression.

Those who know me, Daphne, are well aware I’m not your average beagle. Tri-colored, slender build, and copper eyes that could convince a treat out of the staunchest treat-withholder. Before finding myself in this peculiar but largely lovely town, my adventures had included everything from chewing on cinder blocks to deciding that my bladder would be best served in a counterclockwise position. In my opinion, it’s a rather fetching feature.

Spencerville, though nothing like any of the earthly places I’d enjoyed—such as beaches, mountains, or dog parks—had its own unique charm. For instance, errands for a citizen here might include a trip to The Howling Husky Hardware Store where tools often talk back, especially to a curious beagle. Or perhaps a purchase from The Tail Wagger’s Tailor, where they occasionally offer cloaks that make your coat glisten like a newly washed Volvo.

But of all the places to explore, one couldn’t miss the Bark Burgers; I was practically salivating at the name alone. I’d learned quickly that pets here, while missing their humans something fierce, found ways to pass the time quite splendidly. As I navigated to Pupsicle Palace for a post-lunch treat, my mind wandered back to some of my more bizarre earthly escapades.

Whether it was the infamous detergent-eating incident where I nibbled on a bottle of laundry soap (non-toxic they said, but my stomach and the Pet Poison Control were both skeptical) or the peculiar day I spontaneously decided to explore a neighbor’s house unannounced—evading a pit bull like an Olympic hurdler—my tales were legendary, if I do say so myself.

Here in Spencerville, however, I was discovering whole new genres of shenanigans. As I sauntered past Shepherd Skyline—a breathtaking view even for those of us who are a tad closer to the ground—I noticed Reo, my old pal, a black and white chihuahua, nonchalantly floating on a cloud shaped like an armchair.

“Oh, Daphne!” Reo shouted, causing my ears to perk up, “Come on up! The view’s paw-larious!”

Floating never felt quite necessary, but I indulged his invitation with a gleeful bark and joined him. The view was indeed spectacular, but mostly because Spencerville was a patchwork quilt of furry friends, all perfectly content in this magical waiting room.

As the sun set, the Southern Golden Retriever River gleamed with reflections, prompting more sunbathing dogs than you could count. I cozied into a warm blanket of sunset hues (snuggling, as you know, is a special penchant) and thought of Jasper. If he’s floating in on his cloud soon, Spencerville had better brace itself for a wave of playful chaos that’d make any tail wag double-time.

My eyes grew heavy, but before I drifted off, I clapped my paw to my nose, detecting an unmistakable whiff of—I kid you not—green beans and carrots wafting from Fetch-N-Bites. My loyalty to that scent could rival any seasoned hound’s dedication to catching their own tail.

“Just a little nap,” I mumbled to myself. Tomorrow I’d find another adventure, perhaps discover if those clouds were indeed made of cotton candy or merely the best sunbathing spots in all the realms. One thing was clear: Spencerville, with its perfect balance of comedy and comfort, had truly turned out to be a nearly perfect place after all. And who knew? Someday, reunited with my humans, I might just finally get to properly honk another vehicle horn.

With an affectionate heart and an ever-amused snout,
Daphne.