Hey Mom, just catching you up real quick! Turns out, I sniffed out the missing key to the old barn, helped reunite Sarah and her runaway pup, and scored a pile of belly rubs for it. Who knew I’d end up being the hero of the day? Woof! 🐾 – Jazzy

My life had always been delightfully simple, even when we lived in the more perplexing world of humans. But here in Spencerville, where everything felt like a sunny afternoon with nowhere to be, my days became like a delicious French fry—pure joy. I’ve got the best seat in the house, or rather, the best patch of lawn outside my cozy cottage, which neighbors the bustling streets of Pupperoni Pizza district. Not that I spend all day lounging, of course. I have my duties. That’s right, I’m a police dog—or “a protector,” as my mom used to say, and I take my job very seriously.

Today started like most days, with the gentle buzz of excitement in the air as the town woke up. After a satisfying breakfast of kibble—okay, maybe a couple of French fries snuck in there—I decided to saunter over to Spotted Red Beagle Beach. Now, Spencerville beaches are spectacular, an endless stretch of splash and bark where you can dig holes as deep as your dreams.

I stopped for a moment by Poodle Pond to watch the poodles frolic. I’ve always found their fluffiness amusing. Frankly, they remind me a bit of the ladybug squeaky toy I had back with mom. I used to be able to throw it up and catch it mid-air with precision unmatched by any pup. Just thinking about those days made my ears perk up.

“Hiya, Jasper!” said a familiar voice. It was Sparky, a golden retriever with a tail that ought to be illegal for its wagging frequency. His presence was like the sun shining in through a window I loved to look out of, offering warmth and comfort.

“Good morning, Sparky,” I barked back.

“I see you’re on your rounds. Any new incidents?”

“None that I can bark of yet. All quiet on the puppy front,” I replied with a grin.

In case you’re wondering, any tail wag too strong could lead to an unintended splash in Poodle Pond, as was the fate of Sparky not long after our chat. Thus, part of the daily duty involved sending leaner waggers into the waters to save their soaking friends—a task I never let slip by without a wag of approval from yours truly.

Once I’d ensured peace around the pond, I wandered over to Best in Show Photography. Spencerville’s equivalent of a red carpet, really. Here, we could immortalize moments for when our humans arrived. I mean, they wouldn’t want to miss how distinguished the touch of grey made us look, right?

Later, the town knew to expect me at Pupsicle Palace. Today’s flavor was pumpkin, which brought back the memory of my beloved pumpkin squeaky toy. Persevering through nostalgia, I sat there, beneath the soft glow of the decorative fairy lights, licking my treat and thinking of mom and the times when I placed myself like a hat atop the couch, gazing out the window—my throne that endured my weight and warm memories.

“Jasper! We need you at Fetch-N-Bites!” came a shout from Lenny, the beagle postman.

“With my leash, I shall protect!” I exclaimed and dashed off, relishing the wind flapping my ears as I ran.

At Fetch-N-Bites, it was nothing more distressing than an overzealous vacuum—one of my least favorite villains, even here. I gave it a warning bark or two, and it scuttled off.

As the Spencerville sun began to set, I found myself back at my patch of lawn. Everything was as it should be, and soon the gentle night would blanket our town. Yes, I often missed my family, the way their affection felt like a continuous game of fetch.

As I nestled down, the last of my energy tucked up in a yawn, I knew that in this perfect little world, every moment was filled with light—like a timeless photo in Best in Show. Here, I watched over everyone as loyally as I watched every shadow in our human world, waiting for the time they’d round the bend to take me home.

I let that image of reunion wrap around me and uttered softly to myself, “I love you, mom.”