Hey family! Just checking in to let you know I’ve been a good boy, keeping everyone entertained and herding the neighborhood kids like a pro. Might have stolen a few treats too, but all in a day’s work. Love, Kiki-boo.

Well now, let me tell y’all about a day in the life here in Spencerville, where a dog can live finer than a king while waitin’ for the big reunion with their humans. I reckon you already know me, I’m Leo, a mainly black pit bull mix with a white chest, a missing tail on account of that nasty cancer, and the biggest appetite for puppacinos this side of the Rainbow Bridge. They’ve even given me some nicknames like Kiki and Kiki-boo, but Leo does mighty fine, thank you very much.

Now, the shining moment each year in Spencerville is none other than The Pet Games. Pets from all different neighborhoods come together to compete for supremacy, and it’s the darndest spectacle you ever did see. Today was one of those days, and the air tingled with excitement.

I woke up under a blanket on the living room couch—a place I ain’t supposed to be, but old habits die hard, don’t they? After a good stretch, I decided to mosey on down to Brown Boxer Beach to catch some early morning rays and see what the competition might look like this year.

On my walk to the beach, I passed by Chow Down Chow Chow where the scent of freshly baked turkey slices tickled my nostrils. Now, I love turkey more than a hound loves a rabbit chase, but today was all about focus. I had Games to win and treats to earn.

As I reached Brown Boxer Beach, I spotted Max, my ol’ pal, and partner-in-crime. Memories of the time we worked in unison to roll down the car windows and scare the bejeebers out of that family cruisin’ by on their bikes came flooding back. Good times, good times.

“Ready for today’s hoo-ha, Max?” I barked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Leo,” he replied, wagging his big ol’ tail. “We better head to Collie Canyon, they’re holding the first event there.”

So, off we trotted to Collie Canyon, bein’ sure to pass by the Pawsome Pet Pharmacy ’cause you never know when you might need an extra treat boost or some magical elixer to spiff up your coat. Today’s competition included some of my favorite activities: walks, car-rides, and, of course, cuddlin’. I reckon the last one isn’t a usual competitive sport, but here in Spencerville, we like to keep things interesting.

The first event was a test of speed and agility: a mad dash through an obstacle course filled with plush unicorns, reindeers, and smiley faces. I hadn’t seen so many toys since my last birthday bash, but there was no time to dawdle. With Max on my tail (figuratively speakin’, of course), we zoomed past hurdles and through tunnels, snaggin’ a few toys along the way for nostalgia’s sake.

Next up was the most anticipated event — the Treat Toss. This game tests a pet’s ability to catch treats mid-air, and you know I got me some skills in that department. Pupparonis, chicken bits, and the occasional slice of pizza were thrown in our direction. Max and I gobbled them down like we hadn’t eaten in days, although it’s a well-known fact that a dog’s stomach is a bottomless pit.

As evening rolled around, we headed to Western Fawn Pug Palace for some well-deserved rest. I plopped myself down on a cushion, feeling the weight of the day—sweetful but tiring. The final event, the cuddle contest, was about to begin. We had to cuddle with plushies and see who could stay the calmest and coziest. I nestled myself under the provided blankets, reminiscing once again about those times on the human couch. I reckon I was a natural born cuddler, and it showed.

At day’s end, it wasn’t just about winnin’ or losin’. It was about remembering the love and life we shared with our humans, and to look forward to the day of our reunion. Until then, we got Spencerville and all its wonders to keep us happy and whole.

“Good job today, Kiki-boo,” Max said with a yawn.

“Same to you, buddy,” I replied, driftin’ off to sleep, dreamin’ of tomorrow’s adventures and the soothing smell of turkey wafting through the air.

And there we are, just another typical day in Spencerville for an 80-pound pit bull mix with a heart full of memories and a tummy rumblin’ for more puppacinos.