Hi Mom! 🐾 Just a quick note to let you know I helped the kids find their hidden treasure today and chased away that sneaky squirrel from the garden. All in a day’s work! Woof! 🐶

Love, Wriggles

It was a delightful Tuesday morning, or at least I assume so, since every morning in Spencerville carries a certain delightful ambiance—like a permanent smell of bacon that G.Lady from Pup ‘n’ Go Taco Joint manages to whip up every dawn. And there I was, Wrigley Roo, amiably lounging under my favourite sunbeam, contemplating the profound depths of a peanut butter pot.

Now, let me set the record straight: I wasn’t always this wise and free-wheeling in this utopian post-bark existence. There used to be frantic days, like when I was a mere pupper and found myself bravely barking at the sink for not promptly refilling my water dish. Can you imagine? Hierarchies and hydration issues. But those days are behind me now, for Spencerville is nothing short of Hosannah in a heavenly fur coat.

My quest for the day was simple—to navigate my distinguished body (a tall, brown structure, accented by a white chest and crowned by a blocky head) across Spencerville to retrieve the new volume of “How to Catch the Perfect Sunbeam” from The Wagging Tail Bookstore. A rather intellectual pursuit, wouldn’t you agree? Yet, like any good tail-waggler’s wayfaring, an adventure awaited.

My first stop, dearest reader, was across the verdant slopes of Husky Hill. Smokey and Maddie, my compadres, were sunbathing in their usual spot. Floppy ears perked up, Smokey greeted, “Wriggles! Off on another quest for knowledge, are ya?”

“Aye, indeed. Knowledge, companionship and possibly a Kong to wrestle a squeaker out of!” I replied, twirling my long tail with enthusiasm and grinning in my most goofy manner.

As we sauntered together, we collectively endured the challenge of an extravagant cacophony of squirrel chatter in Upper Collie Canyon. My companions seem to revel in such acoustic misfortunes, but loud noises have never been my favourite treat—more abrasive than a bath on a rainy day, I say.

Further along, we arrived at Western Fawn Pug Palace, where I traded friendly woofs with Chenice and Camden. It was then that Glennie ran by, hailing me to join a game of tug-of-war. Unable to resist, my heart swelled with the affections of our bond; these moments are why Spencerville is more of a haven than a mere habitation.

Now, it would be remiss of me to leave out the episode at Pawsome Pancakes. You see, entering the joint is like stepping into a fluffy cloud of batter with syrup rivers. And therein lies our quandary: Cheney had dropped his pancake. Usually, not a worrisome conundrum, but this time it had stuck atop a tall stack. We, my friends, devised the most elaborate plan involving balancing utensils and rigorous focus, only for Marmaduke to bolt in, summoning his inner Marmaduke chaos, and knocking it all down. Pancakes galore. We feasted like royalty amid our chuckles.

The Wagging Tail Bookstore emerged into view and, lo and behold, Leia handed me not just the book—but a brand new bright yellow duck toy and a plate of eggs—a nostalgic indulgence. She had remembered my affinity for each.

The evening set quietly, sunbeams in retreat, as I lay under my favourite tree, reflecting on the car rides and puzzles shared, friendships fortified and peanut butter jars emptied. Spencerville, with all its grace and joie de vivre, continues to be a perfect hideaway while waiting for a reunion with my beloved humans.

So, darlings, should you stroll into Pawsitively Purrfect Pet Store and see a tall, tan body with a goofy grin and floppy ears sticking out—do say hi. It’s just ol’ Wrigley Roo, on another whimsical pawventure.