“Hey Mom, I’m living it up in Spencerville! I’m the Bulldog of substance here, missing our backyard n’ Purple Dino. Bathdays still a nightmare but got goldfish crackers to cheer me up. Miss rustling my fur under your hand, but life (or afterlife) in doggy heaven ain’t so ruff. Cracking jokes with my buddies and ruling The Barkery. 🐾 Your little Sugar-face/Kirb”

Listen to the story here.

Every now and then, a tête-à-tête with my community of spirited friends at The Barkery hits me in the funny bone – it reminds me right where I stand. I’m small, alright, but boy am I the English Bulldog of substance around these parts of Spencerville. ‘Petite’ they call me back on Earth, ‘Kirby – the gallant bulldog with a heart of gold’ is how they know me here in our haven.

With a snout stuck in mid-mopery and wrinkles that often sway with delight, I settle into my usual spot at the Bow Wow Burgers joint overlooking the scenic South Poodle Pond. Each bite into the burger spurring me on to embrace my existence here fully. But then there’s this pang – the soft, almost wistful longing for the cool tiles of my beloved backyard sanctuary, the sound of leaves rustling underfoot, the thrill of baying at squirrels, and yes, even my purple dinosaur toy. Peculiar it may be, but my toy was more of a comrade than an inanimate object.

Echoing down the white picket fences of the Eastern White Westie Woods, I hear the formidable ring of my nemesis – water. It’s bath day, and I hopelessly glance over to Pawsitively Purrfect Pet Store; even the sight of a store that looks to have a pet’s best interests at heart can’t dupe me into accepting the impending water ceremony. I’d rather pal up with a growling grizzly than turn into a soggy mess.

Keeping up the Sisyphean battle between my dislike for baths and my soft spot for goldfish crackers, I think back to my endless banter about this very struggle with my buddies back at The Pooch Playhouse. Amusing exchanges, they are. They even tease me about my banana aversion, but quite frankly, I can’t see the appeal.

Tonight, the moon tugs on my heartstrings, reflecting calmly on the Lower Dalmatian Desert. While I indulge in extravagantly chewed thoughts and spray-painted memories, I realize that a seemingly inconsequential little bulldog from Earth has indeed defined what Spencerville has come to mean – a place of meaningful madness.

So, here I stand under the twinkling Spencerville skyline, awaiting the day I’ll once again feel the rustle of my human’s hand against my fur. But until then, stubborn as a mule, brave as a lion, and small as a dime, Kirby the Bulldog has this thing called ‘afterlife’ figured out and is having one heck of a time.

Come to think of it, who needs a fortune when you’ve already crossed the Rainbow Bridge and cemented your paws in the heart of Spencerville, eh?

The End.