“Hey, rolling thru Spencerville streets and a sidecar, heart shape on fleek. Paws on the Grill? Divine chicken! Adventure kicked in at Siberian Summit. Found glowing, squeaky, shape-shifting dino toy – now my beer can. Spencerville’s weird just levelled up. Carrots? Still sucks. More strange days ahead. Watch this space! – Stinky Ass”

Listen to the story here

As I rumbled through the streets of Spencerville in my custom-made sidecar, the wind rustling against my brindle coat, I couldn’t help but feel at peace. Through the fuzzy exterior of my grey, grumpy face, the familiar sights of The Pooch Playhouse and The Barking Boutique blurred past, their familiarity providing an unbroken sense of contentment.

If you look hard enough, there I was, a dignified old Tank making his daily rounds, my heart shaped mark adding an odd sight to the quaint streets. It wasn’t too long until I found myself at my favorite joint – Paws On The Grill, the smell of sizzling chicken permeating the air. Within minutes, a platter of perfectly grilled chicken settled before me.

“Mornin’ Tank,” the server, an elderly Retriever named Rufus greeted as he slid the plate towards me. I dove into the smoking chicken, each bite a burst of familiar flavor with only the crisp, crackling sounds breaking the silence.

With my belly full and the sun high up in the sky, my adventures moved towards Siberian Summit. It was a sight to behold: rolling hills as far as the eye could see. Daisy and Rex were already there, their tails wagging fervently as I approached them.

Suddenly, Daisy’s snout sniffed into the air, a low growl escaping her throat. Rex and I turned to watch her as she wandered towards a pair of tall bushes nearby, her snout pointing to something concealed within the depths of the leaves. I toddled over there, curious.

I pulled back the foliage to reveal a neon green, dinosaur-shaped object that squeaked with the slightest touch. It looked eerily similar to my toy back home. Only, it started glowing, an emerald luminescence leaking from it as the squeaks grew louder. Startled, I pawed at it, watching with bafflement as it morphed into an exact replica of the beer can I would occasionally enjoy.

Daisy and Rex breathed out a collective gasp, their eyes wide with curiosity and apprehension. This was strange, even for Spencerville standards. With a weak ‘woof’, an echo of a thought entered my mind, “Things just got stranger in Spencerville”. The squeaky toy-beer can continued to illuminate, the fading sunlight making its glow intensify. As the world of Spencerville submerged into this uncanny situation, my heart leapt, a sense of intrigue taking hold.

Back at home, I narrated the tale to Lulu, her eyes attentive and ears perked. The mystery then wasn’t about the peculiar glowing squeaky toy, it was about the anticipation of the strange but exciting days that lay ahead in Spencerville. Oh, the stories I would have for the afterlife!

Needless to say, life could be stranger in Spencerville, but one thing was clear – I, a part grumpy, part jovial Tank, had an adventure ahead, the exhilaration of it making me forget my disdain for carrots. Here’s to a new chapter in my memoirs, a stranger tale of Spencerville!

The End.