Yo Mom&Dad, Fenny here. Just the usual, another bone of a day in Spencerville. Had my fave chicken delight at Fetch-N-Bites amid Wrigley’s pizza slice scandal (yup, same old Wrigley and Fat Russell). Turned cop today at Nine-Nine, caught in cross-questioning between diva Lil Dot and classy Millie. Long story short, a single pizza slice has the whole town rolling eyes. Gotta love it here, right? No fetch game, all adventure. Yours, Lil Fen.

Life’s a bone in Spencerville, I tell ya; one minute you’re sinking your teeth into a juicy dollar cookie, the next you’re dodging another clean ear regime. Anyway, it’s me, Fenway here, your smooshy-faced, English Bulldog confidant. With my red stuffed animal pal tucked under one arm – yeah, a grown bulldog cuddling a toy, get over it – I took a stroll down to Fetch-N-Bites.

I sauntered in and flopped down on a stool, the barkeep, a hefty St. Bernard named Taz, wiped down the counter. “The usual,” I barked, wagging my tail slightly. That tail, I tell ya, second only to my stubborn streak.

As I dug into my bowl of chicken delight, a rumble began outside. I peered out to see Wrigley, pizza crumbs still on his chin, hurling accusations at Fat Russell under the glow of the softly lit Southern Golden Retriever River.

“A thief! You’re no better than that squirrel that hoards nuts!” accused Wrigley, his mutt face enraged.

Fat Russell, ever the roly-poly stoic, simply burped and sat down, nonchalant. I rolled my eyes; another typical evening in Spencerville.

The next day at Spencerville’s finest investigative establishment, Pet Precinct Novem-Novem (Dog Latin for Nine-Nine, I learned), Spencer the pug, ever the overachiever, was pacing around, twitching his curly tail like a stressed accountant. The mystery of Wrigley’s missing pizza slice had blown up overnight, with everyone blaming everyone else.

“Round up the usual suspects,” Spencer ordered, popping on his reading glasses. Tanner, Spencer’s son, took notes diligently, a mini detective in training.

On his orders, I found myself sitting across from Lil Dot, the sultry diva on one side and Millie, the conservative Scottish Spaniel on the other. As the questions flew fast and thick, I couldn’t help but think of my ancestors like Sampson, popping basketballs instead of cases. Marley, my aunt, would have rolled her eyes at this ruckus over a single pizza slice.

Well, that’s just a day in the life of this English Bulldog law enforcer. Through manic episodes involving pizza, the dread of ear cleaning sessions, to the soul-satisfying chew of dollar cookies, I wouldn’t trade my Spencerville life for anything else. Life wasn’t always a fetch game, but hey, the adventure is the largest tennis ball in this ballpark we call existence.

The End.