Hey Dad, it’s Bubba! 🐾 Today at Spencerville Vet, I mentored a shakey Dalmatian intern, calmed the furry patients, and had a false alarm drama—penned a whole new ‘Bentley’s Anatomy’ episode. Held the fort and kept my title of Tugmaster General. Just another day being the pack leader and your son. 🐶🏥✨ Bentley out!

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Well, hello. It’s me, Bentley. Imagine rolling out of your peachy-keen doggie bed and stretching your legs in a place like Spencerville, where the fire hydrants are basically works of art and the squeaky toys never run out of squeak. It’s like having a life subscription to a buffet of fun, minus the sprouts—yeesh, those greens.

Okay, so today began with the sun beaming like the spotlight on the leading pup in a Broadway show, and I’m all set for my stint at the veterinary hospital. Think ‘Grey’s Anatomy,’ but furrier, and with more tail-wagging drama than you can shake a stick at. Or even that Jolly Ball I never leave behind—it’d be a crime against dog-manity to forget that.

Strutting down Bullmastiff Boardwalk, my paws barely touch the sun-warmed planks because I’m so jazzed about the day ahead. I pass by Bark Burgers, inhaling the aroma of patties sizzling on the grill—ugh, salivation station—and I swear, the day they invent a cologne that smells like that, I’m all in, baby.

Anyway, I digress. The hospital’s hopping today. I mean, a Schnauzer with the sniffles, a Persian cat with an attitude bigger than my appetite for pizza—don’t judge, we all have our things—and of course, the regular physical therapies in the puppy pool. But me and water? No way. I’ll assist from a respectable, non-splashy distance, thank you very much.

So here’s the scoop: there’s this new Dalmatian intern, all spots and nerves, you know? She’s got the shakes like she’s facing the ultimate vacuum cleaner and I’m like, “Breathe, kiddo. This is Spencerville Vet, not the Thunderdome.”

I’m doing my best to mentor her, be the wise, experienced Bulldog that I am, with the occasional detour to Fetch! Toys and Treats—gotta have that pre-lunch pick-me-up. And through it all, I’m comforting pet owners with my smushy face of understanding. It’s tough for them, just like it was for my dad. But I’m here to let them know their furry babies are in caring paws.

But alas! Tragedy strikes! Or, sorta. Not really. Turns out, the intern innocuously dropped her pen and I mistook it for total institute-wide pandemonium. Whoopsy. Cue the dramatic score. But hey, I told you it was like “Grey’s Anatomy” around here!

There’s a reason us pets stick around Spencerville, you know, besides the obvious—waiting to be reunited with our humans. It’s because we get to keep doing what we love, like me, helping others and being the leader of the pack. And okay, grabbing life by the playtime until we’re all tuckered out.

So, there you have it. Just another day in the life of yours truly, Bentley, making sense of this wild, wagging world—a hospital watchdog by day, a playful Bulldog by twilight. Oh, and if you see Russell, tell him to lay off the Bark and Bites; that tummy ain’t gonna trim itself. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to prepare for the evening’s tug-of-war tournament; my title of “Tugmaster General” isn’t going to defend itself, now is it?

The End.

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