Hey Mom,

Spent the day dodging the dreaded bath inspectors in Spencerville—one-eye and all! Hung out with Rex at The Barkery, outsmarted the hose police at Yappy Yogurt, and even got conspiracy tips from Oliver. Ended with a “Spencerville Memories” photo sesh with you, my invincible love-shield. Squeaky ball in paw, I’m still the undefeated Gracie.

Love,
Gracie Girl

The morning sun filtered through my one good eye as if it had a filter on Instagram, casting a golden hue on the nearly perfect world of Spencerville. You know, the kind of morning that makes you forget it’s the first day of “Mandatory Bath Time Week.”

Don’t get me started on baths. Seriously. Pruniness and soap should be left to those weird hairless cats who somehow enjoy drowning in suds. Me? I’m all for sunbathing on the freshly mowed grass at Golden Gate Gardens. Which, by the way, I was determined to visit today to show off my squeaky ball because who doesn’t love a good “look at me” moment?

But first, breakfast. I trotted over to The Barkery, where my buddy Rex—it’s Rex with a double X, of course—served up a special treat: popcorn-flavored biscuits with a side of mashed potato cream. “Hey, One-Eye Wonder,” he teased, sliding the plate over to me with that goofy smile.

I love Rex, even if he thinks calling me One-Eye Wonder is endearing. He’s like the annoying big brother I never asked for but secretly adore. “Keep it up, Rex Triple-X, and I might just squeak your nose instead of my ball,” I shot back before taking a delightful chomp.

Post-breakfast, it was time to avoid the bath police. Yes, they patrol Spencerville with those ridiculous shower caps and water hoses, thinking they’re so clever. I had my escape route planned out: a swift dash down Bullmastiff Boardwalk, with a pit stop at Yappy Yogurt where I could innocently claim to be indulging in a double-dog-dare sundae. No one questions a dog gorging on yogurt, whether you’re an outlaw or not.

Licking the last bit of yogurt from my whiskers, I spotted East Bulldog Bay in the distance. A shudder ran down my spine. Swimming? No thanks. I continued my bold quest of avoiding all things aquatic.

Next on the agenda: a visit to Happy Hounds Dog Walking. I sauntered in for a quick cuddle session with Oliver, a Boston Terrier who had a slight obsession with conspiracy theories. “They’re watching us, Gracie. Bath Time Week is just the beginning!” he whispered dramatically.

“Relax, Olly. They want us clean, not cloned,” I giggled, patting his overly anxious head.

The afternoon sun found me back in my backyard, my kingdom. Tug-of-war with a discarded rope, some covert cuddles under the tree, and a victorious squeak from my ball—the perfect day. But darkness loomed in the skies, reminding me of bath inspectors lurking to break my joy bubble.

As evening shadows fell, I made my way to Best in Show Photography to meet Mom. She had scheduled a “Spencerville Memories” photo session for us. And there she was, the absolute favorite entity of my universe—Mom, with that magical aura only she could have. One hug and I’m invincible, bath week or not.

“Ready for a picture, Gracie?” she asked, holding out a treat.

“Only if you promise to shield me from those bath fanatics,” I replied with my heart in my good eye.

Just then, the inevitable happened. A bath inspector, disguised as a friendly poodle, revealed a hidden hose. “Gracie, it’s time!” she announced.

But I was ready. With one squeak of my trusty ball, an army of fellow Spencervillians emerged from the shadows. Tug-of-war champions, yogurt aficionados, biscuit lovers, and even Oliver with his outlandish theories—my circle, my family.

“Not today,” I declared.

We galloped away, united in our defiance, ready for another day in Spencerville. A day where baths were optional but love, loyalty, and squeaky balls reigned supreme.

As always, with a brave heart and a playful spirit, my tale in Spencerville continued, each wagging moment a testament to the indomitable Gracie.

The End.