Hi Mom! 🐾 Just saved the neighborhood from that mysterious garbage eater again! Turns out squirrels can be quite chatty under the right circumstances. Feeling pretty proud, and I think the cats are finally impressed, too. Snuggles soon? Love, Roxy Foo-Foo. ❤️

The sun was just beginning to dip below Shepherd Skyline, casting a warm golden glow over Spencerville. I stretched my limbs and let out a contented sigh. Another perfect day was drawing to a close in this nearly utopian corner of the cosmos. My name is Roxy—Roxy Foo-Foo, Rock Box, Baby Girl, take your pick. But you can just call me Roxy.

You see, I’ve been here a while. Time’s a funny thing in Spencerville—neither pesky nor precious, just pleasantly consistent. One moment you’re chasing Chew bones, the next, you’re reminiscing about chicken nuggets and peanut butter. And oh, do I miss my mom! But I know she’ll find her way here eventually. While we wait, I can’t get too glum because Spencerville is filled with endless adventures.

Today started like any other day, with a scrumptious breakfast at Waggle n’ Wok. They make this incredible peanut butter stir-fry that’s out of this world. I slurped it up like there was no tomorrow. Following breakfast, I took a leisurely stroll to Brown Boxer Beach. I remember when the sound of waves used to startle me, just like the toaster oven and the fire at home. But here, the waves tell stories, and I’m all ears—or should I say, all paws?

I noticed Tim, a scrappy little Chihuahua from Chihuahua Castle. He was by the shore, barking at the seagulls—classic Tim. I approached with a friendly wag of my tail. “Tim,” I said, “why do you always bark at those birds? They’re just minding their own business.”

He looked at me with those enormous eyes only a Chihuahua could have, “Roxy, when you’re this small, you’ve got to make some noise just to be noticed.”

We laughed. It felt good to share a moment like this. Spencerville is perfect, yet there are small reminders of our unique quirks and insecurities.

In the afternoon, I sauntered over to The Barking Boutique. I have a bit of a chewer’s addiction, and they had just restocked on Kong Bones. As I picked out my prize, I couldn’t help but think about Sammy, back on Earth. Oh, the tug-of-war matches we used to have! We’d battle for hours until mom finally called it a night. Good times.

My next stop was The Pooch Playhouse. They were putting on a play about the Trials of Tummy-rub, a classic Spencerville comedy-drama. I got a front-row seat, naturally, and settled in for the performance. A golden retriever by the name of Buddy played the lead role. Halfway through, a loud bang went off as part of the special effects. Instinctively, I found myself under a heap of blankets—old habits die hard, they say. The audience chuckled, and I reemerged, my cheeks flushed.

“Ding!” a voice yelled mimicking our old toaster oven, and everyone burst out laughing. The warmth of the laughter made me momentarily forget the pang of missing home. Well, almost.

The evening concluded with a serene walk back to my little nook near the forest. The scent of pine was thick in the air, always reminding me of those exhilarating hikes I used to take with mom. The sky transitioned to a starlit canvas, and I found my favorite spot to lay down, my golden red coat blending seamlessly with the autumn leaves.

Life in Spencerville is indeed a series of gentle vignettes—each moment peaceful yet tinged with a longing. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Knowing I’ll be reunited with mom one day keeps me wagging my tail and looking forward to each new adventure. And until then, I have a kingdom to explore, friends to cherish, and waves to listen to.

So here’s to you, mom. Until we’re together again, I’ll keep wagging and playing in this heavenly haven.