Hey Mom,

Survived another bonkers day in Spencerville. Became the fashionista’s hero, silenced a pet shop tiff, and saved our beloved boardwalk from going to the dogs. All in a day’s work for Wrigley Roo, Spencerville’s own paw-some problem solver and tail-wagging diplomat! 🐾🎩

Licks and wags,
Wrigley Roo

As I trot along the bustling thoroughfares of Spencerville, with my black nose sniffing the savory breezes wafting from Fetch-N-Bites, my stomach growls louder than the engines at Bullmastiff Boardwalk. But honestly? Food can wait—because today, we’ve got family drama hotter than the dishes at Bow Wow Bistro.

It all started at the edge of North Chihuahua Castle, where Chenice, Smokey, Maddie, and I decided to meet up. “Wrigley, dah-ling!” Chenice twirled up, her tiny tail wagging a mile a minute. “You simply must help me choose a new outfit from Canine Couture Clothing for the Furball Fiesta!”

Before I could woof in agreement, Smokey lumbered in, his stoic gaze fixed on me. “Wrigley, there’s a rumble at Western Fawn Pug Palace.”

A rumble? At my favorite Pug-styled mecca? This was more serious than a misplaced squeaker in my yellow duck.

Then, Maddie bounds in, ears perked up, looking like she’d single-handedly downed the entire espresso menu at Pup-Peroni. “Guys, have you seen the latest post on the Spencerville Squeaker’s blog? Apparently, our favorite spot is under threat!”

The tension was thicker than the peanut butter sticking to the roof of my mouth at the thought of green beans. It’s true, I rather sunbathe on a hot tin roof than eat those. And now, my friends were pulling me in more directions than there are flavors in the combo pizzas at Fetch-N-Bites—I adore combo pizzas, minus the green beans, of course.

“Okay, squad,” I said, taking the lead because, well, someone’s got to do it, and I’ve got the snout for business. “We’re going to help Chenice glam up for the Fiesta, sort out the ruckus at the Palace, AND keep our favorite spice-infused boardwalk standing.”

Chenice blinked her button eyes at me, then at Smokey, who nodded with such solemnity you’d think he was vowing to never growl again.

Maddie zoomed in circles. “How are we gonna do all that?”

I scratched my chin thoughtfully with my adorably mismatched paws. “One doggie drama at a time.”

Two paw shakes and a group bark later, we marched into Canine Couture Clothing. Chenice tried on tiaras, tutus, and even some glamourous goggles—and let me tell ya, narrowing them down was more draining than resisting the siren call of a pizza slice on the kitchen counter. All while I was prepped for paw-to-paw combat at the Palace.

In the end, Smokey’s diplomacy (and perhaps his imposing size) calmed the row about whether tug ropes or frisbees deserved the top shelf at the Fetching Feline Pet Emporium. Maddie’s turbo-charged enthusiasm gathered enough support that even the thought of closing Bullmastiff Boardwalk became the most distasteful rumor since, well, those dreaded green beans.

Amidst all this chaos—Chenice, stunning in her new get-up; Smokey, the unlikely peacemaker; Maddie, the four-legged whirlwind of positive energy—I found myself at the heart of my Spencerville family, helping navigate the ups and downs like a pro, loving every tail wag and snout nuzzle of it.

Because that’s the thing about us Spencerville pups—we’ve got each other’s backs, whether it’s for fashion fiestas or defending our favorite haunts. We’re paw-in-paw, come rain or horrible, detestable baths, till we sniff the sweet scent of our people’s pants once again.

The End.