Hey Dad,

Just wanted to drop you a quick text from Spencerville—yes, I’m living the dream on the daily! Today’s highlight? A double hamburger feast at The Barkery with a lakeside view, served with a side of nostalgic thoughts of you. I’m a local celeb here, crafting my own legend, belly full and heart even fuller. Miss your pats, but life’s pawsitively grand in this fluffy slice of heaven.

Tail wags and slobbery kisses,
Stella 🐾✨

Listen to the story here

As I, Stella the English Bulldog, took to my usual promenade through the illustrious yet peculiar streets of Spencerville, I couldn’t help but feel an air of contentment swirling about my squishy, wrinkled jowls. Now to you, who understands the heart of my character, you’d know Spencerville was no ordinary place. It’s a pet’s paradise, a haven suspended in time and frosted with the dreams of those like myself who have shall we say ‘shuffled off the moral coil.’

This fine morning—or was it evening? Time in Spencerville twirls and dances to its own beguiling tune, and I’m but an enthralled spectator. I lay my eyes on the shimmering surface of Golden Retriever River, pondering if I should indulge in a swim. Yet the mere thought has me recoil. The water, splendid for the likes of those more aquatic canines, would barely hold the magnificence of a juicy hamburger. And there it was, rising above the scent of the waters—the fragrant aroma of grilling patties from ‘The Barkery.’

I must say, nothing quite captures the essence of this town’s culinary prowess like ‘The Barkery.’ You know how I’ve always had an eye, or rather a nose, for the finer things, and their haute pattesine was the epitome of such.

I found myself trotting towards the scent, my thoughts interrupted by the odd cacophony of barks and meows—a symphony that constituted the rhythm of Spencerville. My stout legs carried me past Pooch Playhouse, bearing witness to the romps and games much akin to youthful revelry.

Upon arriving at ‘The Barkery,’ I made no hesitation in making my grand entrance. As always, I was greeted with a chorus of friendly howls and meows. The felines in this town have an air about them that can only be described as ‘refined aloofness,’ but between you and me, we know it’s just a front.

With the flair of purpose that any self-respecting bulldog carries, I made my way to my usual table—yes, I had a usual spot, marked not by a plaque or inscription, but by the sheer force of habit. Settling atop my favorite cushion with a view that overlooked Labradoodle Lake, I awaited the highlight of my day.

“A hamburger, Stella,” the waiter, a spritely Spaniel, inquired with a knowing wag of his tail. Resisting the urge to drool was an exercise in futility.

“Make it two,” I replied, with the kind of gusto that one reserves for profound declarations of love or hunger.

As I awaited my order, my mind wandered to the folks at home, whom I knew wholeheartedly that I’d see again one day. I picture them fondly, with a certainty that our bonds are not severed by such trivialities as space and time. They would have laughed to see their Stella now, a connoisseur of Spencerville’s gastronomic delights.

With the arrival of my hamburgers, each bite was a celebration, a culinary orchestra that played a symphony upon the taste buds. Yet even in the throes of my feast, I yearned for a familiar pat on the head, missing yet not despairing, for in this peculiar pet purgatory I was never alone.

You see, dear confidant, as I share with you this anecdote, Spencerville unfolds around me like a stage set for a never-ending play in which we’re the stars. It’s a place weaved from the strands of memories and tales of our former lives, mixed with the invention of joyous happenstance.

Make no mistake: I am the architect of my escapades here, a master in my own mythos. So, while I wax lyrical over hamburgers and delights, remember this—the essence of the tale is not in its narrative alone, but in the spirit that gallops like wild horses within it. And here in Spencerville, my spirit romps unfettered, under the watchful gaze of Western Husky Hill, until that day when the final chapter merges with reunion and the beginning of a new, shared story.

The End.

Share This Story: