Hey Dad,

It’s Fleabag!

I’ve stumbled upon the most pawsome place, Spencerville, quite the dog’s paradise. I’ve got my tri-color banner flying high, making friends in my new frontier – including a grumpy cat, surprised huh?

There’s a bounty of gastronomy for me without the tyranny of salad. Ah, the opportunity to be a “mischievous adventuress”! No vacuums or mailmen to dread here. Spencerville’s shops have treats so tantalizing, can’t help but snag an illicit goody here and there.

It’s a haven stocked full with fun, frolic, and furry friends aplenty. But it’s more than a refuge Dad, it’s my staging ground for our big reunion, to swap stories and create more wonderful memories. You know, the same old Fleabag fun!

With love, waiting to see you…
Percy

I remember the first time Percy and I strolled into Spencerville, a nearly perfect town that catered enormously to our four-legged friends who’ve bade us adieu. It was the stuff of legends, a place where fallen pets could frolic unabashedly until they met us again. Percy, with his tri-colored coat of black, white, and tan, instantly made an indelible impression on his new fellow townsfolk. It was a sight to behold, watching him immediately take to his new life with an infectious energy that belied the turbulent emotions he hid.

Percy isn’t an average dog, bless him. There was an undeniable charm about him, a sense of independence, lacquered with a layer of sociability that was every bit irresistible. But he did have a penchant…a connoisseur for the forbidden. “Percy, no!” was often drowned in the sly wink of his eyes as he unapologetically raided the fridge, lapping up leftovers or annoyingly nibbling at the occasional treat of cat food. Salad, however? Well, that was the bane of his existence.

There’s a crowded spectrum of love and loath in Percy’s life, see? Mountains, forests, and lakes were his playgrounds, his preferred architectural utopias. Throw him into the pandemonium of city life or the desolate desertscapes, and he’d curl his lip in sheer disdain. It felt like nature was his language, his lighthearted conversation with the world around him. But…the vacuum, the postman, anything that screeched “vet!” sent him scurrying under the labradoodle-shaped bed, his temporary haven from his aversions.

Percy found a commercial paradise in Spencerville. From Pup-Tastic Pizza to Doggy Donuts, Fetch-N-Bites and The Fetching Feline Pet Emporium, Percy became the poster boy of Spencerville’s consumer culture. And at Fetch! Toys and Treats, well, let’s just say it was a treasure trove. It was impossible to keep him off the inconspicuous stolen delicacies. My Percy, ever the mischievous adventuress.

His joie de vivre spread like wildfire in Spencerville, his circle of friendship ever-widening. And it wasn’t just his canine compadres. He bonded with the birds, the squirrels, and even the grouchy old cat from the pet supplies store. Shocking, I know! But, that’s the Percy mystery, the enigmatic charm housed in his dogged persona.

Spencerville was Percy’s refuge, a haven for him to live out his second life with a camaraderie that echoed with laughter and echoed with love. But it was never about forgetting. It was a purgatory of beautiful memories and anticipated reunions. Spencerville simply allowed him to wait, knowing that we, the ones he held dear, would one day retread his gleeful paw-prints in the sand of Red Beagle Beach, the tendrils of the Southern Golden Retriever River, and the playful ripples of Labradoodle Lake, to find him. And that was the real charm of Spencerville, wasn’t it? Its promise of solace for our beloved best friends and a perpetual reunion. Its tale of love and longing that veils the waits and satiates the yearning.

The End.