“Hey Mom, those dog days in Spencerville? Remember? Me, being King in the Dalmatian Desert, cuddling on ruined sofas, still wagging my tail in this bleak world. Food’s just kibble, but then, I see cheese and Pnut butter, it tickles my nose, makes me wag more! The baths, oh, those baths! Yet, they don’t dull the fun of wind-chasing. And then there’s Caffrey, always racing me, showering everyone with doggy kisses. Keep the dream alive, Mom. We’ll go back to that reality someday. Woof, Ace the Optimist.”

Listen to the story here.
As I turn over the diary’s worn pages, memories of Ace, that bounding labrador of yesteryears, come rumbling back like a lost river. Oh, Spencerville! A world away, yet etched in my soul as the place where Ace truly reigned – unbowed, unbroken, playful to the core.

In the days after the great catastrophe, a sense of gloom had descended upon us. Society on the brink of collapse, everything seemed uncertain, everything but Ace. You see, it’s quite impossible to be morose around a dog who finds joy in everything, including the post-apocalyptic ruins. She may have cuddled on a ruined, once loved sofa in the evenings, in the land her forbearers had, in a turn of sweet pathos, named Dalmatian Desert, but it was a life of play and chase nonetheless.

The gastronomic landscape was bleak, and most days, our meals were as inspiring as a bowl of soggy kibble – that is, unless you’re a labrador named Ace. Even through these trying times, she never stopped enjoying her meaty conquests, a testament to her appetite. She would sit expectantly by the camp supplies, big brown eyes filled with wistful longings for a chunk of cheese or a scoop of peanut butter. The singular act of joy, that unassuming anticipation, could lift our spirits like nothing else.

Ace despised baths, you see. There was always a hint of gloom in her eyes when the big blue bucket was seen; but pawprints in Dalmatian Desert, chasing the whirlwinds, didn’t sit well with no baths. A logical disconnect she never managed to get. Caffrey and I would laugh our hearts out. Every. Single. Time.

The bond between Ace and Caffrey, that was the silver lining in our gray canvas. They would fight, chase, race and rest, sprinkling everything around with sloppy doggy kisses. We needed those kisses, that love, that effortless bond to remind us of what we’ve lost, and what we’re striving to rebuild.

It’s heartbreaking to lose something you love, but Spencerville, it gave us respite. The thought that Ace was there, perhaps at the Fetching Deli, savoring a great meal; or at the Doggy Depot, looking out for a squeakier toy. Or maybe, just maybe, she was at Golden Retriever River, eyes twinkling at the salty allure. Oh, how she loved the beach!

The last few years haven’t been easy. Every day is a struggle, but every day is also a step towards something better, something brighter. Until then, we remember the good times, the simpler times, from when Ace was still around – from when Spencerville was not a distant dream but a reality, worn beautifully by roguish yellow labs with a love for squeaky toys and life. Someday, we will get back there, I promise you, Ace.

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