Hey Mom,

Just a quick tail wag from Spencerville: I’ve become quite the legend at Kibble Cuisine with my culinary critiques, explored the lofty cliffs with Sir Fluff-a-Lot, and turned a mechanical ball thrower into a debate on canine loyalty. And despite the vastness of oceans and human oddities, I’ve found joy in the simple heroics of everyday life. Spencerville’s woven me into its myth – a hound of humor and heart!

P.S. Still not sold on swimming in the ocean. Much love, Caly 🐾

Listen to the story here

I find myself ensconced in Spencerville, perched regally atop my usual haughty throne at Kibble Cuisine, savoring the symphonic crunch of delectable bite-sized morsels. The humans have spun tales of fancied myth for eons, yet I stand (or sit, rather primly, with one paw delicately curled), a beacon of white fur and variegated tail, my own legend wrought in the slobbering mouths of panting pups who seek the valor of Spencerville.

In this canine Elysium, embossed with myth and whispers of yore, the days unfurl like a never-ending scroll of parchments scented with the musk of adventure and a hint of steak. I reside within the fabled Northern Choco Chihuahua Castle – rather appropriate, I say, for a fellow of my discerning tastes and gallant heart.

At Labradoodle Lake, we lead lives of epic leisure, my compatriots and I. The waters, ever so gently lapping the pebbled shore, mirror the azure of my eyes – eyes that have seen realms beyond the grasp of many a dog’s sniff. Speaking of sniffing, have I mentioned my unyielding love for the culinary arts? I could wax lyrical about the rich paté from Bow Wow Burgers, or how the mere thought of a sizzling sausage from The Bone Appetit seduces my senses.

Beyond the feast and fury of the bountiful board, my trusty stuffed companion – let’s call him Sir Fluff-a-Lot – accompanies me in noble exploits. We venture to the Upper Collie Canyon, scaling its grandiose cliffs, our silhouettes transposed against the sunset like legends cut from the very fabric of heroism.

You may find it odd that a creature of my distinction and exploration harbors an irrational angst towards the oceanic abyss. It’s not that I fear the water – a dip in Labradoodle Lake attests to my aquatic aptitude – but the ocean, with its roiling secrets and tumultuous temperament, holds a sense of foreboding that even my husky heart cannot shake.

Adults? Yes, they further my consternation with their confounding rituals and garbled dialogue – a far cry from the joyful simplicity of puppy play. Riddle me this, I’ve often pondered in my more meditative musings, why do they complicate matters so?

I digress. Let’s run with the ball and head to the meat of our tale, shall we? For I, Calypso – noble of snout and fleet of paw – do have a knack for stumbling upon the most curious of occurrences. Such as yesterday, when I sauntered upon a gathering at Fetch! Toys and Treats, where canine citizens stood rapt before the window, gazing at the newest contraption that promised endless games of toss without the need for human intervention. Magic, some whispered. Blasphemy, others growled.

With a chortle and a toss of my head, I approached the throng. “Fear not, my fellow fur-bearers,” I said, the tiles beneath my paws echoing my authority. “This contrivance is but a trinket of the human’s idle hands. It would take more than a flinging machine to sway the loyalty of a Spencerville citizen. We are creatures of legend, bound by the unmoving heartstrings to those we await.”

Yet, for all my bravado, I could not help but entertain a vision of myself, glorious and unchained, leaping and bounding after ethereal spheres launched by the mechanical marvel. Perhaps, in a tale yet untold, I could reconcile the simplicity of my canine joy with the unabashed innovation of the human world.

But for now, in my regal repose, I am content to know that Spencerville is home, a haven beyond the rainbow bridge, a tapestry of tales where the narrative thread is woven by paw prints, wet noses, and the unwavering spirit of legends.

The End.