Hey Dad,
Guess what? I found a new favorite spot at the park today, helped Mrs. Johnson find her missing slipper, and made friends with a squirrel named Tito. All in a day’s work, right? 🐾
– Bubub

Well, my friends, settle down into a comfy spot for I’ve quite the tale to tell you. My name, as you well know, is Russell, but most folks—both canine and human—know me better as “Big Russ”. Of course, there are the insiders who fancy the more intimate nicknames like Bubub and Zubazz, all courtesy of my beloved dad, Michael.

I now reside in the delightful land of Spencerville, a charming place that’s rather good at hiding its secret: it’s the very place where all the pets go after they leave their earthly lives. You see, Spencerville is not just any town—it’s a sanctuary where pets bide their time with a mixture of jolly adventures and heartwarming anticipation of the day they reunite with their humans. Oh, the joy and merriment that fill the air here! You can hardly toss a Blue Frisbee without hitting a dog wagging its tail madly in delight.

Let me regale you with the escapades of one particularly peculiar day—one that had all the essence of drama and comedy mingled into a perfect fetch game. It began, as most days do here, with a merry romp through Lower Golden Gate Gardens. I often find myself amidst the vibrant blossoms and friendly fauna, exhibiting a playful bravado that hides my true intelligence, for one must never show all their cards, especially in Spencerville.

On this fine morning, an unusual hush had befallen Upper Black Bulldog Bay. A group of us—Baker the English Bulldog, Spencer the Pug, and Reo the Jack Russell Chihuahua Mix—had congregated near The Bark Shak for our customary snack. I caught scent of a Cheesesteak being prepared and wagged my short, sturdy tail with anticipation. Out of nowhere, a ruckus erupted at The Doggy Depot; someone had started a tug-of-war, and oh, it was no ordinary game—it was chaos!

Curiosity piqued, I galloped over as fast as my stocky legs would carry me. To my astonishment, it was none other than the intimidating feline duo known as The Purrvincibles staging a heist! They had wrestled themselves a pile of Peanut Butter treats and were making a hasty escape. Now, I am nothing if not loyal, and loyalty dictates that one must protect the treasures of Spencerville.

I let out a bark that could have rivaled a thunderclap, sending the felines scurrying. The vacuum of silence left in my wake was replaced by a chorus of canine cheers. Victory tasted almost as sweet as boneless spare ribs! The incident was promptly closed with a round of Prime Ribs at Chow Hound Café, courtesy of the grateful proprietor.

Later in the afternoon, we reconvened at Black Bulldog Bay—both lower and upper. With bellies full and spirits high, a game of fetch was inevitable. Spencer’s cunning nose discovered my favorite toy—Mugsy, the stuffed animal bulldog forgotten amidst some reeds. It was like a reunion within a reunion, and my heart swelled with a mixture of relief and gratitude.

As the sun dipped and painted the sky with hues of marmalade and plum, we, the denizens of Spencerville, gathered around The Furry Friends Art Gallery. The evening was dedicated to silent reminiscing, where each pet thought fondly of their human companions.

Though I miss my dad, I know our separation is temporary. Spencerville has taught me many things, but chiefly, it has shown me that loyalty and playfulness can make any waiting game bearable. So, until the day I feel Michael’s warm embrace again, I roam these lands, making merry with my pals and occasionally thwarting a heist or two. After all, who better than Big Russ—the stocky, dark brown and white English Bulldog—to keep things interesting?

With a wag and a woof,
Russell