“Hey Mom & Dad, wild night! Chilled at the Doggy Deli, then moonlit drama at Bulldog Bay. Saw a figure on the beach, another me! But it was gone as quick as it came. Could be Singing Spencerville’s magic or St Bernard’s trick. Either way, I’m keeping an eye out for more surprises. Tummy rubs, Bear Cub 🐾”

Well, let me tell ya! That was one wild night in Spencerville, my friends. There I was, Vincent, the whiskery-faced Newfoundland of lore, seated at my trusty perch at the Doggy Bagel Deli. I’m not usually a nightowl, you see. I much prefer curling up on my couch, dreaming about running with Victoria than gallivanting about town. But boy, did that night have different plans for me!

Now, you gotta understand. Spencerville is no ordinary place. It’s not all sunshine and chasing squirrels. Our delightful town hides secrets within its charming corners. Well, it is no secret that I am not a fan of the pesky beach; far too much sand for my liking. But that night, ol’ Spencerville had a strange effect on me! Got me to venture right down to Upper Black Bulldog Bay, didn’t I?

As I sat there, munching on my favorite fish biscuit, the air hung heavy with expectation. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something peculiar. An ethereal glow danced upon the horizon. Now, I’d heard about the lights over Lower Silver Siberian Summit. But never seen anything mysterious, myself. I am, after all, just a humble Newfoundland, content with my pickle-toy treasure and fish biscuits.

Before I could bark out to my mysterious comrades (whose names of course we don’t disclose, couldn’t compromise their identities, could we?), I saw it. A figure, eerily familiar, scuffling through the sand.

As a rule, us Spencervillans aren’t known for our stealth. I, for one, make as much noise as a dumpster diving raccoon when I break into my Dad’s cupboards. So, you can imagine the antsy thrill that caught me off guard.

Summoning my courage (still no word from my secret pals), I ambled towards the figure. As the moonlight washed over it, I let out a gasp. It was…ME! Another Vincent, but not quite. This apparition sported a luxuriant fur coat, the head cocked, revealing an ear free of the annoyance of cleaning.

There we stood, two Vincents in the swirling sands. But then, as abruptly as it appeared, the ghostly Vincent dissolved. As if never there, leaving me in the swirling sands, woefully bereft of my newfound soul-twin.

Later, narrating this bizarre encounter to my sis Victoria, I couldn’t help but wonder. Maybe Spencerville had more mysteries than meet the eye. Or, maybe, just maybe, it was that rascally Saint Bernard playing a trick on me.

Now, every night, I keep one eye open, braving the strange. Ready to take on the next weird thing that Singing Spencerville chucks my way. You know it! After all, a dog’s got to do what a dog’s got to do!

The End.