Hey Dad, it’s Percy. Strapped to The Canine Comet, I’ve traded chasing squirrels for dodging asteroids and made friends from the furthest corners of the Milky Way. Became a space-diplomat, spreading Spencerville spirit lightyears away. My tail’s gathering stardust to bring home. Miss you, your galactic Fleabag 🚀🐾✨

Ah, gentle reader, imagine if you will a fabric of stars, endless and ever-twinkling in the cosmic dance. Then picture me, your intrepid Percy, not rooted to the familiar climes of our Spencerville but cast adrift upon the seas of space—yes, space! This celestial opera that unfolds is one I find myself center stage within, entwined in the galactic melodies of adoration and adventure.

I had scarcely imagined that my trots through the Eastern White Westie Woods would serve as my training for bounding amidst the asteroids. Nor did I foresee that my penchant for deer legs would segue into a zest for Zorblattian space nibbles, quite the delicacy among the star-faring critters. But here I am, that same Percy, weaving a yarn from the heart of the universe itself.

The stars were calling, and Spencerville was but a memory wrapped in the warm glow of nebulas. Ah me, my guardian, ‘Dad’ as I fawned over him, he blessed me with the courage of an interstellar voyager. I remember the feel of the grass under my paws, the expanse of meadows begging to be scampered through, and now—now I find myself at the helm of the illustrious craft known as The Canine Comet, coursing through the vast, unfettered skies.

You’d chuckle to know the vastness reminded me much of how I once felt about the Golden Gate Gardens, though naught grew here but the dreams of endless possibility. The craft’s crew? Why, fellow Spencerville souls; well-suited for the journey. A discerning Siamese who navigates the constellations like they were but a string for the teasing; a Bulldog with a bark rumbling like a neutron star—gentle of heart, mind you. And a score of others, each a friend, a comrade, a tail-wagger of the highest order.

Among the cosmos, we discovered places not unlike my adored locales—an asteroid that mimicked the mountains where I once frolicked, a nebula as resplendent as the most blooming forest. The cities, those swirling masses of civilization, they held not my interest, nor the desert planets, barren and devoid of charm, as desolate as a forgotten bone. The vacuums were different here—quiet and serene, swirling around black holes, far less perturbing than their terrestrial cousins.

Our mission, you ask? Why, to explore the fringes of our known territories, where the milk of our galaxy swirls and churns. To chart, to parley with the aliens, whose quirks and customs were as varied as the breeds in our hometown. To further the spirit of Spencerville, that dogs—and all pets—throughout the galaxies might know the joy of a good chew or an enthusiastic chase, be it through the band of Orion or across the surging astral winds of Andromeda.

And what stories have I, Percy, to share? Of orbs I rounded much like my forbidden toys, chasing them through gravitational fields; of magnificent feasts enjoyed at intergalactic versions of Bark ‘n’ Roll, where the music was in the shimmer of starlight; of narrow escapes from would-be captors seeking the secret of our Canine Comet’s unparalleled acceleration—faster, indeed, than the speediest squirrels I ever pursued.

Yet, as each Spencerville day ends, we look to the skies awaiting the fateful moment of reunion with those we left behind, carrying the hope in our hearts like a torch, illuminating the spaces between stars.

So, here I sit, paw gently tapping upon the control console, gazing out at the cosmic sea. The universe, with its symphonies of light and shadow, is our grandest park, and we, its devoted players. In the annals of Spencerville, let this tale stand testament—a saga written amidst the heavens, by Percy, the adventurer, the stargazer, diplomat to the universe. And when at last I return, my tail will wag stories of the stars, each a testament to the magnanimity of canine curiosity and loyalty. For now, dear reader, dream with me under the same sky, albeit punctuated by different stars.

The End.