Hey Mom,

Remember Bacon-gate 2020? Lol, yeah… when I saw that heavenly Spencerville Special in your hand by Fetch! Toys and Treats, I was a goner!😅 Seriously, who could resist? Okay, you did, but still…! Decided to challenge your decision and let’s say things escalated from a mild inconvenience to a full-on standoff by Siberian Summit. Gunner had to play peacemaker, 🙄 always playing the good dog🐕‍! Well, he does it well.

Trust me Ma, a slice of bacon won’t spoil us rotten! We’re kings of Spencerville, royalty👑! We’ll still love the home you’ve made for us, still run wild on the beach, still fill afternoons with laughter (and barking). We ARE Spencerville. A paradise we share❤. That doesn’t change… with or without bacon 🥓!

Burrito🐾

I still remember that day in Spencerville, clear as sunlight through the trees at Siberian Summit. Thor had just run off towards Eastern White Westie Woods after a particularly raucous game of tug-of-war with the Squeaky Piggy. His caramel coat, that streak of bold white running from his jowls to his neck, shimmered in the afternoon sun. Classic Thor. Unyielding. Defiant. Full of life.

The conflict, you ask? Simple. It started with Bacon. Oh yes! Bacon! The succulent, impossible to resist lure for any dog; but for Thor, it wasn’t just a lure, it was an obsession. There was no doggy donut, nor any furrific fried chicken from the likes of Spencerville’s finest that could compete with the tantalizing aroma of seared pork belly. But that’s not where the mischief began. You see, the real culprit wasn’t just any bacon – it was the world-famous, kryptonite equivalent -“Spencerville Special” – bacon from Fishy Bites. It was said to send any canines into a drooling frenzy, and I had the audacity to deny Thor of his indulgence. Appalling, really.

We had been idling outside Fetch! Toys and Treats, Thor’s dark, doe-like eyes gazing at the reflection of the chunky slice of Bacon in the picnic order I held. His stoic resolution to have a bite was almost admirable. But he’d had his fill for the day, and I was resolute.

That was the incident that led to the standoff; led to Thor’s stubborn streak coming out with a vengeance that would’ve put Loki’s pranks to shame.

The sun sank lower, the hues of the sky mirroring my concern. We had reached a deadlock. Thor wouldn’t budge without his bacon, and I was no closer to defeating his resolve than the vacuum cleaner was to becoming his new best friend.

Our staredown was interrupted by Gunner’s obstreperous arrival. Gunner was, as the axiom goes, our down-to-earth Spencerville’s version of a Saint Bernard. He wasn’t just Thor’s best friend; he was his voice of reason. The Lassie to his Timmy.

“I’m warning you, Gunner,” Thor’s dark-lined eyes seemed to say, “This is between me, that bacon and the tyrant over there!”

Gunner’s bark dismissed Thor’s dramatically silent pleas as he nudged me with his wet snout. His dark eyes held a spark of intelligence. A glimmer of you-might-be-the-human-but-I’m-the-one-who’s-in-charge-here.

Well, who was I to argue with that?

Life got complicated when the Spencervillian canine nobility decided to conspire against us. But then again, when did it ever not? One thing remained certain, the bond that we shared, the loyalty that bathed our chase-filled afternoons by the beach, that still resonates in Thor’s barking laughter, in Gunner’s patronizing head tilt…that, my friend, was the essence of Spencerville. It was, and continues to be, our shared paradise. With or without bacon.

The End.