Hey there. Quick pupdate from Spencerville: Daisy & I, Clinton the audacious Maltese, have turned into fantabulous fur-buddies. From sharing meals at Pup-Cakes to unraveling the squeaky-chicken mystery (spoiler: it was Rascal), life is just one funny bone after another. Paws crossed for more tail-waggin’ days ahead! Cheers, Clints.

Listen to the story here

So there I was, munching on my grilled chicken from Ruff-n-Ready, when in waltzes Daisy, the audacious Dachshund, from that other lane. She was all charm with a hint of sass, straight out of a canine sitcom- if that’s even a thing. You should have seen her coat, it was this radiant burnt sienna, not unlike my favorite squeaky rubber chicken. She was subtly ruffling her tail with nonchalance, hinting a newfound confidence that had everyone in the Pup-Cakes restaurant giving her a second glance.

The moment she set her eyes on my chicken, you could see the gleam in them. Always been a foodie, that one. “Clinton, didn’t anyone teach you to share?” She sauntered over with a grin that could shame the proverbial Cheshire cat.

“Mmm-hmm, right after I learned the subtle art of taking my food from my plate to my mouth without dropping.” I quipped, not entirely willing to part with my luscious chicken. “You’re welcome to my broccoli though.” I graciously offered her my most despised veggie with a smug smile.

Athena, the captivating Cocker Spaniel enters like she owns the place. For once, not trying to oust Mrs. Langford at Spa for Paws, her prefered haunt. She glanced over at me and Daisy, eyebrow arched as if questioning our weird camaraderie.

“Daisy and Clinton?” Athena snorted. “Now, that’d be a sight for the gods.”

I felt my fur bristle at the audacity. “What? A Maltese and a Dachshund can’t enjoy each other’s company?” I stood my ground, dreaming of lounging at Bulldog Bay, while Daisy rolled her eyes at Athena’s comment.

Days turned into weeks, and Daisy and I were glued at the hip, leaving poor Henry the Beagle feeling like a third wheel whenever he joined us at The Pooch Playhouse. I wouldn’t say I was in love, but there was this peculiar flutter every time she set her sight on my rubber chicken. It was a strange, good-effect type of flutter.

And then, the catastrophe struck one fine day. My beloved squeaky rubber chicken mysteriously disappeared. My heart missed a beat, I was on the edge of a canine mental breakdown. Everyone pitched in to help, but it was Daisy who nuzzled me, “Clinton, we’ll find it.”

And find it, we did. In the jaws of Rascal, the incorrigible rogue of Spencerville. Squeaky rubber chicken in shreds. Love’s labour lost. Daisy and I, distraught, sat by South Poodle Pond, mourning the loss of my childhood buddy. Strange huh? What brings you together?

Spencerville hadn’t seen a more unlikely duo. Yet amidst squeaky chickens and grilled foods, we found something so profound, so funny, that life in itself became a shared anecdote. Different? You bet. In love? Absolutely. Comedic obstacles? Well, what else would you call a demolished rubber chicken?

And even though our restaurant escapades continued, and Athena’s eyebrows would rise even more, not once did we feel out of place. Like no one “nose” us better than we do each other. Pun intended! And that’s how two opposites found their ‘happily ever after’, or whatever that means in DogTown, aka Spencerville- the nearly perfect place where pets go after they pass away.

The End.

Share This Story: