Hey Mom,

Had quite the day! A moment of quiet before JD went MIA. Almost gave me a fur-attack! Don’t worry though, he was at Ruff-n-Ready with a chew bone acting all kingpin-like. Got a good laugh after all the whirling around. All’s well that ends well, right? Just part of being Harold The Hound of Spencerville.

Take Care,
Harold 🐾

A sunbeam kissed my face through the dewy glass of Chihuahua Castle’s bakery. My tail waggled as the bittersweet scent of freshly baked peanut butter cookies danced around me. “Oh, it’s a good day,” Smiley said, stretched out alongside me. His eyes gleaming with the anticipatory look of a puppy on his first walk.

“Too good,” I replied, fear nipping at my hackles. These tranquil moments in Spencerville weren’t exactly commonplace. The place was as quiet as a cat on the prowl. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

But, this was the calm before the storm – just like the vet’s office shots – always sandwiched between warm rubs and mouthfuls of treats. Just as I was about to curl back into slumber, Pepper, always the firecracker, came bolting in. “Harold,” she yapped, “JD has disappeared!”

My heartbeat drilled against my ribs as I shimmied up into action. Not JD! We may have squabbled over chew bones, but he was family. Pepper followed me, her yellow eyes wide and crazed. We had enough problems without a missing sibling. My mind was racing, the car engine that runs but can’t steer.

Grudgingly Sylvester, who was taking a catnap on the rooftop, joined our search party. Spencerville’s very own feline detective, albeit obligated. We darted through Maltese Meadow, our steps drumming against the ground like an aching lament. But hope wasn’t entirely lost; it never is in Spencerville.

Not long after, we were standing outside Ruff-n-Ready, my gut sinking with every tick of the second hand. There he was, JD, holding court amongst a betting circle around a gnawed chicken bone. Sly mutt, as fast as a cat’s swipe, he guarded his precious chew bone amongst the discarded toys.

The adventurous pup had a knack for causing a stir. Growing up, he fancied himself as Spencerville’s very own kingpin. The reality, however, was akin to chasing one’s own tail. An endearing sight, from an old dog’s perspective.

Feeling a sigh of relief nudge past my jaws, I couldn’t help a canine laugh. Oh, the tales we dogs of Spencerville live to tell! The day’s mischief behind us, I sank into the peaceful hum of Happy Hounds Dog Walking as we trotted back home. These family dramas, woven tightly together with the threads of love and mischief, were the heart of our existence. The paradoxical simplicity of Spencerville life.

And, well, just another day in the life of Harold, protector of Spencerville, hero to lost souls, lover of chew bones and destroyer of baths. For here, in the heart of Spencerville, I have carved my legacy—one paw print at a time. The sun surrendered to the velvet darkness, its last rays kissing JD goodnight; a testament to another day wrapped in the delight of crime, camaraderie, and canines.

The End.