“Hey Dad, sunset at Spencerville, wrinkle-butt basking at The Barkery. Busy day rallying Barney, Whiskers, Abby! Bagged enticing grilled chicken dinner, despite nostalgic tug from old-chew-rope. Dodged ominous sprouts at Pawsome, frolicked at Pooch Playhouse. End of the world? More like start of the good life. Bonds tightened, unity in paw city. A day ends, or begins? Either way, life’s not so ruff in this canine utopia. Tail waggin’, Irv.”

Listen to the story here.

The sun was setting over the Yellow Tan Dalmatian Desert, casting a golden glow over the undulating dunes enclosing Spencerville. You could almost taste the day’s warmth hanging in the air. I sat my wrinkled, bulldog behind on the porch of The Barkery, absently watching the less-than-anarchy that descended upon Red Beagle Beach after another placid day.

“Hey, Barney! Whiskers! Abby! Time to head back home!” I hollered, my voice echoing across the seashell-studded beach. The daily ritual of calling in my crew signaled the onset of another night in our happy, tranquil post-apocalyptic wonderland. Solemnity might have replaced the hilarity of the town residents, had not the delicate, cheery notes of the evening accordion been wafting across from Sniff ‘n’ Snack.

A plate of my favourite grilled chicken waited for me at Doggy Bagel Deli, and despite the long day, one could always find room for such a delicacy. Passing Happy Hounds Dog Walking, I noticed the chunk of old rope displayed in the window. Once, in the world of yore, I would have given anything for a good, incessant chew at it. But here in Spencerville, even Frisbee is a lost art.

Nostalgia, you old fool, always tender around the edges!

Suddenly, I was pulled back from my thoughts by the distinct aroma of brussel sprouts. Pawsome Pet Pharmacy! Those green little orbs of terror. I took a detour towards Pooch Playhouse, tail curling in distaste. The twinkling facade of the store brought an instant smile to my face, an eternal reminder of the cheeky, mischief-filled days of Spencerville.

Ah, but the end of the world isn’t so bad, you know. It’s just something different – fresh starts, new beginnings – and isn’t that the spice of life? We’ve all huffed along, rearranging the pieces. We’ve reclaimed what is and was ours. We’ve stumbled upon something beautiful, amidst the ruinous aftereffects—brotherhood, born of companionship.

I’d spent a lifetime chasing birds and avoiding vegetables, but what better exultation than that shared with Barney, Whiskers, and Abby? To a world gone to the dogs, we were the rays of a setting sun, concocting stories of unity in the wake of unraveled society.

As the night descended, the townsfolk began to light up The Barkery for the night. Ah, another day was ending in Spencerville – or was it just beginning? Who knows, after all, time was a man-made folly, I reasoned, making my way home.

A dog’s life isn’t so ruff after all. Not in Spencerville.

The End.