Hey Mom,

Soph checking in! Swapped my usual fur for something fancier. Currently residing at the East Pug Palace on Spencerville. No Big Macs though – imagine my disappointment! Rusty Golden gave me a lead on a similar nom at Pupperoni Pizza. Verdict is still out on that one.

I’ve found some familiar faces along the way, Fat Russell and Lil Dot to name a couple. We’re a tight-knit crew now, holding down the fort under the starlit Spencerville skies.

It’s certainly different here – humanity’s sense of humor remains questionable. The place names had me rolling… Bone Appetit, honestly.

Things are different, slower in pace, but not worse, just… new. There’s a horizon full of possibilities here, far from the rustling leaves and mosaic grasslands, far from you and the little humans. But don’t worry, I’ve got paw pals, potential Big Mac alternatives, and a delivery-free zone.

It’s truly a dog-gone good life here in Spencerville.

Tail wags,
Sophie Girl.

“Where am I?” I found myself asking aloud, hardly recognizing the echo of my voice. My fur felt lighter, the familiar contours of my body… different. The first glimpse – East Pug Palace at the corner of Spencerville. You’d think I’ve transmuted from the humble Sophie to some form of royalty. “Will there be a Big Mac?” I quipped to myself. Sure, the palace was everything but ordinary. But unlike most, they didn’t have what would satiate my peculiar gastronomic adventure. I mean, come on, it’s a bun-meat-bun equation, how difficult could it be?

An old fellow, Rusty Golden, told me, “There’s a place, Pupperoni Pizza, they serve what you’re talking about!” His voice, a mixture of excitement and nostalgia, perked me up. It’s not the same, of course. It’s not as though Ronald himself fried those mouth-watering circles, still, squinting your eyes, well, you could almost pretend.

With the stuffed duck under my paw, I wandered around Spencerville. I was a stranger in a world that knew me, somehow. Shepherd Skyline, Canine Couture Clothing, all fascinating names that wore an air of familiarity. And Bone Appetit? Hah! The audacity.

Just when I was brooding over humanity’s generic sense of humor, pattering of paws filled the silence. A face smudged with specks of maroon and white bounded towards me – Fat Russell. “Always the attention hog, aren’t you?” I said and chuckled. We’ve never met, yet history bound us together, narratives entwining with one another.

It goes without saying, Lil Dot arrived next, a poltergeist in a cloak of white, mirroring my own self. We’d be twins in another life, perhaps. As though summoned by a spectral force, Pearl appeared next. I denied it, but my heart gave a tiny skip at her sight.

Under the Spencerville sky, speckled with a dozen stars, we sat, a motley crew bound by our connection to the world beyond. Our lives, once intersecting at different turns, now became an elaborate circle. Did I miss the rustling leaves, the mosaic grasslands, and those annoying yet lovable little humans? Sure. Did I mind the wait? No.

Everything has its own rhythm. The heartbeats we left behind will find us, in time. Until then, there are Big Macs to be devoured, friends to be made, and a thousand possibilities awaiting us just over the horizon. Besides, the delivery-person never comes here, so that’s a plus.

Life – in Spencerville – is just like it’s supposed to be, truly dog-gone good.

The End.