- Dog Tales
- May 14, 2024
Spencerville’s Time Loop: A Dog’s Day Out: A Jasper PawWord Story
Hey Mom,
Imagine Groundhog Day with a tail! I’m Jasper, or as Gus would say, Jasper the Repeat Offender, reliving Spencerville’s quirks daily. No Katiebug, but the poodle’s perfume persists, and the beagles lead the chase! Daphne’s unchanged charm caps off my déjà vu days. Let’s see what tomorrow’s repeat brings, or is it today, again? Same stars, same tail wags.
Woofs and winks,
Jasperoni 🐾✨
So it goes, another dawn tickles the corners of my cozy Spencerville abode, the bristles of light stretching lazily like a cat on a sunny window-ledge. I, Jasper, am once again cocooned in the soft blankets of slumber when awareness creeps over me. It’s peculiar how familiar this morning feels. It tickles the back of my mind like a déjà vu that’s overstayed its welcome.
“Morning, Jasper,” Gus calls, tail a blur – it seems his is eternally set on vibrate.
“Is it?” I yawl, tongue flickering a hello. I totter over to my vantage point by the window, where the world of Spencerville winks back at me, unchanged, paused like an old record caught in a groove. And as I gaze upon Pug Palace sitting austerely in the distance, I’m struck with the sameness of it all.
The same Husky from Howling Husky Hardware trotting down the lane with a wrench clamped in his jaws. The same poodle quartet parading to The Groom Room, fluffs puffing out in a choreographed poof – their perfume wafting over from a block away. The same, except Katiebug isn’t here to see it with us.
By the tails of the beagle brigade, I’ve looped back to this day. The scent of The Doggy Bagel Deli beckons, the chew of sesame and poppy tickling my nose just so – a perfect replica of yesterday. And when Alfie trots alongside me, I expect him to present some clue, some wrinkle revealing why today is yesterday once more. But he just stares, as clueless as a cat in a dog park.
The routines trickle in as they should. The beagles’ noses nudge me toward our usual haunts – their eyes alight with the freshness of the first time. We land in the heart of the Siberian Summit, where the chill of the faux snow gets me dancing a brief jig to keep my paws from freezing, just like yesterday.
I wolf down my prescription lunch (not without a daydream of cheese dancing before my eyes), romp with my two-headed sea monster toy, and later, I’m whisked away in a car ride. The window down, scents burst in like an uninvited, yet welcome, party of aromas – each whiff an echo of the last.
As the sun rest on the horizon’s chin, I curl up in my backyard sanctuary. Stillness descends; when Daphne, beauty incarnate, joins me, we share a quiet moment – the same one, it seems, from before. My sister, despite her ignorance of my sense of repetition, remains a true companion. Together, we watch the stars pop open like daisies in the night.
And so it is, the day winds down as every muscle in my body hums with anticipation. Will tomorrow be today, again? Does it really matter when each day in Spencerville, a utopia for the four-legged and the furry, is a day worth reliving?
Thunder growls in the distance. I’m not a fan, and as before, I find myself wishing for a full house, a buffer against the solo performance of the storm. But the thunder rolls by as if to say, “Don’t worry, Jasper, it’s all happened before. It’ll happen again.”
I drift to sleep with the taste of dusk in the air, with the understanding that regardless of whether I trot through Tuesday or mosey back through Monday, I’m living a dog’s day out, with joys worth savoring again and again. And in that blanket of night, as if to prove my point, my last thought before dreams take me is a comforting echo of my earlier musings — so it goes.
The End.
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