Hey Mom,

I transformed from Reo to ‘Sir Reo the Intrepid’ on a bonkers quest to Corgi Castle with my furry crew. Chased adventures instead of tails, devoured doggy donuts, befriended pretentious Persians, and turned Spencerville legends into last night’s news. Daisy led us like champs and we all conquered more than just the backyard. Can’t wait to regale you with tails of our grand capers!

Over and out,
Little Man 🐾✨

Listen to the story here

I should’ve known it would be something more than a run-of-the-mill road trip when Daisy, with her snout-high airs and the thrill for adventure practically howling out of her, suggested we embark on a sojourn from the heart of Spencerville to the fabled Corgi Castle. With the sun playing hide and seek behind some indifferent clouds, there I was, biding my time with Paco and the Colonel in the sprawl of my backyard. It’s not every day one gets an invitation to court with destiny, or in our case, an excuse to escape the well-trodden paths of our idyllic haven.

“Reo,” Daisy barked, full of the old bang-bang enthusiasm, “this is the mother of all escapades. We’re setting our paws on some real terra incognita!” Her tail wagged with conspiracy. The entirety of Spencerville lay sprawled before us, a canvas ripe for the painting.

I surveyed my posse – Jasper, already looking like he’d laid out his wits before the journey began, Daisy, the epitome of canine grace, and the duo of Chiquitas, Paco, and yours truly. Our fellowship lacked nothing except maybe a touch of common sense, but when did that ever stop a good story?

The plan was simple; hit the ribbon of Oddity Road with the wind in our fur, make a detour at Doggy Donuts to fuel up with some sugary decadence, and then onward to the untamed wilderness of Silver Siberian Summit before we set camp under the towering turrets of Corgi Castle.

“Remember,” I told them, “the whole town’s our backyard. But out there, it’s the thrill of the unknown. Are you all ready to turn legends into old news?”

We were an army of canines departing with the taste of doggy donuts still sweet on our tongues, bound for glory or whatever passed for it in our four-legged folklore. We sidestepped the everyday howlers like the Howling Husky Hardware Store, finding more solace in the mysteries that awaited us beyond.

But as much as every bone in my body yelped for freedom, for that joyous car ride without the car, my stubby tail couldn’t ignore the whisper of a doubt. There’s a risk in stepping off the map, a sort of seduction to it. I flashed my most rascally grin, masking the apprehension only Chiquita seemed to pick up on, her soft growls barely a subtitled murmur to the others.

“Keep your snouts sharp, and tails high,” Daisy said, “Each step is a tale for the ages.”

And tales we did spun, one misadventure rolling into another like a When we stumbled upon a group of prim Persians hosting a bizarre picnic at the edge of Western Labradoodle Lake, Jasper’s charms proving more potent than any diplomatic passport.

“We’re on a quest,” I declared, my voice as gravelly as the path we traveled.

“Is there a plot to this madness?” a particularly haughty Persian inquired, one eyebrow arched in a perfect arc of feline skepticism.

“The plot?” I scoffed. “The journey is the plot, the road’s the narrative, and every paw print we leave behind is a sentence in our grand story.”

The picnickers watched us with masked intrigue, sipping water out of crystal bowls, cleaning their whiskers with an air of detached nobility. Our canvass was larger than their tea-time intrigues, our paintbrush stroked with broader, wilder motions.

Past the summit and into the velvet darkness of nascent night, our destination finally scratched the horizon – Corgi Castle, silhouetted against an inkwell sky. We were Kings and Queens of our ambition, Lords of all the fields and streams we crossed.

“We made it,” Jasper breathed, a smile breaking out like he’d just solved the mystery of life.

I nodded, our road had been paved with the stuff of legend. “We didn’t just make it, Jasper,” I said as I looked back on the odyssey, on our odyssey, “we owned it.”

Chuckling into the starlit tapestry, I wondered if our owners could see us – free spirits crowned in unseen glory, writing our own tales in Spencerville, awaiting the day we’d share our legends with them.

The End.