- Dog Tales
- September 11, 2023
Larkin PawWord Story
“Hey fam, wild night here in Spencerville. Even our fearless Larkin felt a bit strange! Stayed in her shed all day, ignored her favorite kibble and blue bird toy too. But guess what? We got her pretty dress out and she stood her ground, protecting us all from the odd disturbance. Our unusual day ended with her making us prouder than ever. All is well now. Love, Beans.”
Once upon a midnight dreary, a strange, almost subtle hint of a disturbance whittled its way into the heart of Spencerville. Everyone, even the invincible Larkin, felt it. It twisted in the air, as though draping invisible tendrils over their digs, the occasional tug strumming through the atmosphere and into their collective heartbeat. The imminent mystery seeping through Spencerville.
“She feeling out of sorts too?” Uncle Jess, a Spencervillian Anthropomorph, asked as he peered over the counter at our beloved Larkin. Honestly, the only bloke in Spencerville who never missed a spot when shaving his cheeks. Splendid fellow.
I could only nod, biting back the concern seeping through my lips. Words wouldn’t do her justice, not when she’s refusing to leave her sunbathing shed.
“Not even for a smidgen of bacon grease kibble?” he asked incredulously highlighting her favorite food.
Jess, along with Aunt Jenny and Pawpal, shared a tight bond with our community at Spencerville. I dare say they knew every bird, squirrel, and pet better than their own whiskers. But Larkin… Ah, she always had a special spot in everyone’s heart.
“Have you tried her blue bird stuffy?” Aunt Jenny chimed in. Her gaze, filled with empathy, flitted from mine to Larkin’s.
I shook my head. “She won’t even glance at it.”
“Alright, alright. No need to fret,” Pawpal’s voice, heavy with wisdom, swept in from behind. “I’ve seen Spencerville spin tails that’d make your whiskers curl. Our town abides by a rhythm, a rhythm that’s.. trying to say something.”
I furrowed my brows, catching his betwixt veiled words. Jess and Jenny nodded along somber agreement.
“Spenceville is a haven, lad. A resting abode, for us and our braveheart Larkin. But there are times, just like any living entity, the town struggles too.” Pawpal continued.
Jenny leaned in, “Remember the Pup-Tizers incident last year?”
I shivered at the memory. “The lettuce… a havoc.” She continued, a hint of laughter twinkling in her eyes.
“Let’s get Larkin her dress, shall we?” Jess proposed, an air of challenge in his tone. We all agreed and got to work.
As we approached the spirited Snouzer, Sadie, who was comforting Larkin with much gusto, the much-awaited resolution of our grief happened. Larkin, with her baritone bark and a heart chock full of bravery, made her stand in Spencerville, defending it against the strange roar that now dwindled into the night.
Larkin, our lovely English bulldog, the protector of Spencerville, had overcome the strangest night in her town. Yes, she’d missed a sunny day shed nap and her favorite food, but this? Her tenacity stood out in the realm of common canine existence. To a stranger, it might seem it was just another day in the so-called perfect world. But the reality? Well, Larkin, bulldogs, and Spencerville – they’re anything but ordinary.
The End.
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