Hey fam! Just wanna say, I’ve really found my purpose in Spencerville. Turns out my tail wags & playfulness have left more paw-prints on hearts than I ever knew. I’ve become a local legend in making furry friends feel at home. Big realization: it’s the love & laughs we share that truly mark our spot in the world. Keep wagging! 🐾

– Curley

Listen to the story here

Ah, Spencerville! Imagine, a place where every frisbee is caught, every tail wag is returned with a smile, and the steak – oh the steak – is always cooked to tender, juicy perfection. I’m Curley, by the way, your Keeshond compatriot and local Spencerville connoisseur of fun and fur-philosophy. And did I mention what a striking fluff ball I am? Trust me, even the Poodles here tip their proverbial hats to my luxurious mane.

Now, on a particular Christmas Eve that found me a touch more somber than usual, I curled up on my plush bed in Corgi Castle—one of the finest digs this side of Boxer Beach, by the way. Everyone was cheery, preparing for the festive feasts at Fishy Bites (a seafood sensation, mind you) and the clinking of water bowls at The Bark Shak. But as I pawed through my memories like a good chew toy, I wondered, “Have I really made my mark, or is this just a delightful canine delusion?”

That’s when a rather dapper Golden Lab in a bow tie—fancy, I might add—sauntered up to me. “Name’s Gabriel,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “and I’m what you’d call a ‘guardian angel.’ Look, Curley, it’s about time you saw the big picture.”

Before I could utter a resounding “Woof!” we were whisked away, floating above Spencerville like warm air over Boxer Beach sands. “Gabe,” I said, feeling all majestic, “what’s the scoop?”

He wagged his tail and showed me visions of my human family. There they were, laughing over a story of how I once outsmarted the neighborhood squirrels. My heart swelled. Even at that time, I knew they were giggling at the sheer brilliance of my feint and charge tactic rather than the hilarity of my subsequent tumble. Then came scenes of me comforting them, my steady paw and warm snuggles bringing solace during thunderstorms that rattled even the robust walls of our beloved home.

But Gabe wasn’t done. Fellow dogs from my Spencerville pack, including my best bud Puddlez, recounted tails—er, tales—of my playful antics cheering them up when they first arrived at Maltese Meadow, puzzled at their new surroundings. “You, Curley, have a heart as big as your fluff,” they barked in chorus. “A toast to you!” they cheered, clinking their chew toys together in tribute.

I turned to Gabriel, suddenly realizing that every joyous bark, each ecstatic zoomie around the meadows, had made ripples through Spencerville. My spirit soared like a racquetball at the apex of its bounce—life here really was one grand, bouncy adventure.

“Thanks, Gabe,” I said, the fluff around my collar feeling a tad tighter with pride. “I see it now. Every nuzzle, every game of tug-of-war… it all adds up to something special, huh?”

Gabriel nodded with a sagely pant, “Every wag of a tail, every act of bravery and love, it’s all part of the wonderful bark of life, my fluffy friend.”

So, as we returned to Corgi Castle and Gabe said his farewells, I nestled in between my dreams of steak-filled knapsacks and a heart bursting with newfound appreciation for my canine legacy. I knew when I woke up to the scents of Spencerville Christmas, I’d have a spring in my step and a belly ready for feasting.

From that day on, folks, let it be known that Curley, the Keeshond extraordinaire, understood it’s not just about the chase, but the paw-prints we leave behind. And let me tell you, mine are as grand and fluffy as they come! What a wonderful bark indeed.

The End.