Hi Mom, it’s Doc. Just thought you’d like to know I’ve been quite the hero lately—helped my human find his missing keys, comforted a sad stranger at the park, and even learned a new trick! All in a day’s work for your furry kid. 🐾

Love, Doccy

It was another fine day in Spencerville, the nearly perfect place where we, the dearly departed pets, live out our days in delightful anticipation of that joyful reunion with our humans. You know me as Doc, the amiable English Bulldog who sports a patch of brown around one eye and speckles on both ears—quite a fetching ensemble if I do say so myself.

My mornings typically commence with a jaunt over to Brown Boxer Beach. I may not be a fan of the colossal puddle known as the ocean, but there’s something to be said for the sunbathing opportunities on offer. A chap’s got to maintain his demeanor even in the afterlife, you see. Having stoked the fire of my tan and given a wide berth to the water, I meandered over to Bark Burgers for a late brunch. Nothing says “Carpe Diem” quite like a well-seasoned patty served on a silver tray.

I languidly turned the corner past The Tail Wagger’s Tailor, chuckling to myself at the thought of preposterously dressed poodles and Dachshunds. Then, I found myself standing before The Canine Cafe, musing over whether to indulge in some doggy biscuits or simply gaze longingly into the eyes of the Baker Terrier behind the counter. That’s when I saw her—Abby, my solid white English Bulldog paramour. Our eyes met, and I felt a flutter in my stout chest.

Yet this day held a surprise, for Abby was not alone. Beside her stood a tall, brooding figure whose piercing eyes and windswept fur suggested that romance and mystery might just be in the air. The werewolf, with his sable-hued coat and enigmatic smile, introduced himself as Fenrir. Yes, I know, rather dramatic, yet fitting for our peculiar town.

“To be honest, I didn’t expect my day to involve a triangle of sorts,” I quipped, mostly to myself, as dogs and wolves rarely engage in idle chatter.

Abby wagged her tail, both in mirth and apprehension. “Doc, this is Fenrir. He’s just arrived from Brown Boxer Beach. He watched you avoid the water like a plague.”

“Ah, well, you see,” I said with a cough, “I believe in observing water from a respectable distance. My talents lean more towards tug-of-war and the consumption of watermelon.”

Fenrir let out a low chuckle. “I’m more of a night creature, really. The mountains, the forest—these places call out to me. And Abby mentioned you were brave and protective. Quite the valiant knight in this quaint realm.”

Before I could reply, the delicate chime from The Dapper Dog Salon down the street caused us to pause and take in the lively atmosphere. Harper, my white long-haired curly Chihuahua brother, scampered up, oblivious to the dramatic air hanging about us.

He barked gleefully, “Doc, we have a new chewing bone at home! You coming?”

Ah, decisions, decisions. My eyes drifted back to Abby, anticipation glittering in their depths, though a cautious curiosity danced about Fenrir’s.

“I believe we were on our way to Pup-Tastic Pizza,” Abby said, her eyes locking onto mine and then darting towards Fenrir. “Care to join us, Doc? What’s an adventure without a little tug-of-war?”

“Yes,” I responded, glancing at Harper, who had already lost interest and was investigating a nearby pile of freshly fallen leaves. “Lead the way.”

Hand-in-paw, or paw-in-paw rather, the three of us strolled through the bustling streets of Spencerville, where adventures waited at every corner, and friendships—both old and new—blossomed with every passing moment. We knew that paradise awaited back home with our humans, but until then, there were plenty of pizzas to savor, chew bones to tackle, and mysteries to unravel.

And so, we journeyed on, hopeful and content, eagerly awaiting the day when our humans would join us in this blissful, extraordinary town of dreams.