Hey buddy! It’s your fuzzy guru of generosity, Lili here. Just dropped the ultimate test of puphood at the center—I shared THE rubber bone. Yep, the sacred red & white! Felt like gifting a chunk of my soul but guess what? My heart grew three sizes today. Spreading joy, one toy at a time. Paws and reflect on that! 🐾🦴✨ – Lils

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Emerging from the silken threads of dreams, where snippets of a past life mingle with the whimsy of Spencerville, I awaken. A yawning stretch followed by an energized shake — and that’s how my day begins, not quite celestial, but yet, in a place as close to heaven as a dog could imagine.

Hi there. I’m Lili, Spencerville’s fluffiest, most earnest Pomeranian trying to live my best afterlife. And a fine morning to you from a place with the irresistible charm of a Nancy Meyers movie set, only this one is eternally cast in a sunrise glow.

The morning buzz at the Bone Appetit is where I trot to first, the clinking of porcelain bowls reminiscent of the bistro’s that once served humans. Sampling today’s special — a mélange of chicken pâté with quinoa garnish — I resolve, as I do every morning, to better myself. Today, I will learn to share my chew toys. Yes, even the rubber bone that has become the object of my affections.

Before I commence this endeavor, I grace Bullmastiff Boardwalk with my humble presence. A sea breeze tousles my fur, and there it is, the perfect spot at Black Bulldog Bay. You’d think the soft splash of waves would relax a dog, but no, it invigorates me. For a moment, I picture myself a seafaring captain, the wind my guide, skirting the edge of the world. But, my paws remain firmly on dry sand.

Lunch is with friends, for what is self-improvement without company to witness it? A Greyhound named Gatsby races me to Ruff-n-Ready. “Slow down, Gatsby,” I chide, “you’ll give me a cramp.” He laughs, the sound like wind chimes, and waits. He knows I hate to lose.

We settle down at Waggle n’ Wok because Gatsby loves the mock duck. I order the chicken — of course — and we talk about everything and nothing, the way old friends do, when losers turn out winners because they have each other.

“Today,” I announce, “I’ve planned a visit to The Pawfect Training Center. I shall master the art of sharing. THE RUBBER BONE!”

Gatsby’s eyes widen in feigned shock. “The red and white one? You wouldn’t dare!”

I would, and I do.

Post-lunch endeavors find me at the center; my siblings gather. The rubber bone, a beacon of my dedication, sits in the middle of the circle. Brows furrowed, tails still — this is serious business.

With an instructor’s nod, I push it forward. “Who would like to try?”

The commotion is sudden and spirited. A chorus of barks acknowledges the gravity of my sacrifice, and as the bone is passed from paw to paw, my chest swells. Not with pride — okay, a little with pride — but with the warmth of giving.

By Southern Golden Retriever River, where the water hums a sweet lullaby and the day is poised for twilight, I reflect. In stories often lauded, the lesson learned closes the final chapter. But I, beneath the boughs that sway to the wisdom of ages, know better.

Every day, a chapter. Every day, a chance to be better, a chance to love, a chance to share. And as I see my friends, old and new, playing and laughing by the riverbank, I am content in the knowledge that I am indeed, a good dog, in a good place, striving to be better.

Ah, but sharing — that’s a bone of contention I’m willing to pick every day.

The End.