Hey hooman,

Just a quick tail-wag from your fluffy mastermind, JayJay. I outfoxed Bluster today and reclaimed my right as the squeaky toy sovereign. Let’s just say when it comes to canine capers, my bark is as good as my bite. 🐾 Still ruling Spencerville with a paw of iron and a heart of gold. 💪

Furgards,
JayJay 😎👑

Listen to the story here

The cityscape of Spencerville was spread before me like a banquet I was both host and guest to, my black and white fur rippling with the secrets of a thousand tales yet sung. It was morning, or maybe it wasn’t – I’ve never owned a watch, and time in Spencerville is a relative commodity. You could tell time by the number of back scratches you’ve had or by the counting the moments until the next meal. Anyway, who’s to say?

I found myself perched rather elegantly, I should add, on a bench at Fawn Cream Maltese Meadow, still reflecting on yesterday’s event – unspeakable in the cadre of canine calamities. You see, pride comes before a fall, or rather in my case, before the unceremonious theft of one’s beloved squeaky toy, my dearest Lambchop.

There’s an enigmatic pooch I know – let’s call him Bluster, a ruffian with a penchant for poetic justice, his little terrier heart thrumming with schemes. What japes he must contrive beneath that wiry coat, for whom the bell of retribution tolls, one can only wonder.

Anyway, Bluster has his sights set on the big dog, if you catch my drift, an inflated sense of propriety puffing out his chest as he parades his ill-gotten gains, none other than MY Lambchop, right across Maltese Meadow. The gall. The audacity.

A day in the life has been interrupted, and so I, JayJay, of noble spirit and firecracker temperament, take umbrage at such blatant disrespect. I do not seek conflict, but when one’s sacred playthings are in the crossfire, what is a Shih Tzu to do but retaliate with cunning?

But how does a sophisticated canine, such as myself, indulge in the base indulgence of retribution without losing his status as an icon of decorum? With flair, that’s how.

I skulked, a dramatic term better fitting a panther, but humor me, through Eastern White Westie Woods to Pup-Tastic Pizza – was it Wednesday already? The scent of savory slices wafted, mixed with the gossip of weekly specials and the whispers of my own infamy. Glancing at the menu, the cogs in my mind were adjusted, a plan as brilliant as it was, well, slightly nefarious.

A pizza was ordered. A note, cunningly penned: “To Bluster, for the victor go the spoils,” left beneath the box. The result: a predictable parade of pride as Bluster claimed his bounty.

Now, across from Pooched Potatoes, lay my real trap – a sumptuous steak, liberally sprinkled with an irresistible scent, untethered and on full view. It’s a simple equation, really – belly’s gravity plus terrier equals predictable outcome.

The bait taken, the theft confirmed, the accusation cast like a stone across the proverbial pond, ripples of turmoil lapping at Bluster’s tainted feet.

Skip forward, because there was the matter of the scratching behind the ears session that I’d rather not skip, and we were face to face, my nemesis and I. Lambchop was returned, honor restored, and as I curled up in the soft embrace of twilight, solace returned.

One must ask, what’s the lesson nestled within? Perhaps, that in Spencerville, life is fair and theft leaves a taste more bitter than Chow Down Chow Chow’s elaborate cuisine?

Or maybe I think too much. Sometimes a squeaky toy is just a squeaky toy, and revenge – no matter how just – is an endeavor as empty as a hollow bone. Yet, let it be said; whoever tramples on the joy of a good dog will find his day filled with less wag and more ‘woe is me.’

Tomorrow will come, as relentless as the need to nap in a strip of golden sunlight, and Lambchop and I will be there, ready to partake in whatever joys and japes the day flings our way. In Spencerville, every dog has his story, and every story has its day – and a Shih Tzu named JayJay is no exception.

The End.