- Dog Tales
- September 9, 2023
Jasper PawWord Story
“Hey Mom, remember the day I bounced over the rainbow bridge? Spencerville knows too! Had a pawsome party today – all my pals, even Fat Russell who naps on walks, were there. Spencer the Pug threw me a bash to rival any disillusioned novelist’s scotch party. Felt the love, saw fireworks, even contemplated life. Tonight, I’m more than a dog, Mom. I’m Jasperoni, making a mark! Pawfive!”
It was an extraordinary morning in Spencerville. The kind of morning that painted the sky in hues of oranges and purples, as if God himself spilled a palette of pastels from the heavens above. Jasper woke up, his Florida-shaped black spot feeling extra heavy that day.
“Why do I feel like I’ve had an extra helping of prescription meals?” Jasper puzzled as he stretched his cream-colored limbs.
“Oh, you silly boy,” Daphne, the tri-colored Beagle replied. “You’ve been sleeping more than a philosopher contemplates life! It’s the anniversary of when you crossed the rainbow bridge into this perfect paradise of paw prints and peanut-free promenades.”
Suddenly, Jasper’s deep, chocolate eyes widened as memories of car rides, long walks, and exciting hikes from his past life resurfaced. “It is!” he exclaimed, his tail curling up in excitement.
“Better make ourselves presentable,” Daphne winked, pointing her wet nose towards Reo’s Ice Cream Pawlace, the upcoming gala’s venue. Dressed in luminescent fairy lights, it stood tall and proud in the Chihuahua Cove, like a beacon of joy against the gently-lapping lake.
“There you are!” A big bulldog, known affectionately as Fat Russell, came panting up to the pair as they arrived.
“You see, I have a theory,” Fat Russell began, slumping down right in the middle of the street. “A nap mid-stride does wonders for an English Bulldog’s complexion.”
Spencer, the town’s adorable mayor and a pug of considerable charm, came bustling over. “Jasper, my friend, today is your day!” He declared, “It’s your day and my responsibility to make sure your party goes smoother than a glass of well-aged scotch sliding down the throat of a disillusioned novelist. ”
The announcement of the party kicked off an evening of feasting on jerky treats, merriment, and innocent shenanigans quite befitting of the canine community. The celebration held no bounds – no admonishing for tearing off hair from crinkling toys, no solitude. Just companionable freedom, joy, and an overwhelming feeling of love and acceptance.
When the last fireworks dimmed out in the night sky, Jasper found himself looking at his reflection in the lake. He was not just another dog. With each bark, with each wag, he was writing his chapter in Spencerville.
Tomorrow, he’d go back to contemplating life as philosophy would dictate, but tonight, he was just soaking in the jubilation around him, watching the starry haze of the lake shimmering with his friends’ laughter and camaraderie. Afterall, confetti celebrating his existence rained down around him, marking the day when he found the nearly perfect place called Spencerville.
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