“Mom, survived ‘zombie squirrel’ invasion today. Led a daring rescue mission to save Missy who was sunbathing oblivious of chaos. Managed to laugh with Bruno despite citrus stink. Bruno says resistance builds character. Waiting for new adventure at dawn..Miss you! Lassie-Lambeau.”

Listen to the story here

I had just collapsed onto my back, inviting the cool evening breeze to find its way to my exposed belly, when the bulldog waddled over. Huffing and puffing, his chestnut eyes wide under the wrinkles of worry crinkling his stout face. Bruno, the hulk of a bulldog was on the move, and this was a rarity worth noting.

“Zombie squirrels,” he gasped, drool flecking from his jowls. “Moving west.” This was Spencerville code for all kinds of calamities, the gravest of threats we knew.

I rolled over, ears flopped aside, “Sounds serious, Bruno. You still reek of citrus peels, by the way.”

He wrinkled his snout like it was an Olympic sport, “Citrus, my eternal nemesis.”

I sighed. “Has Missy heard this news?”

“No, her sassiness is sunbathing at Poodle Pond.” His words were grave underneath his lopsided grin.

As I rose from my blissfully lazy sprawl, what occurred to me was not the imminent peril of ‘zombie squirrels,’ but the sheer irony of my life. It wasn’t always filled with fluffy-bite-sized-koala-like creatures who’ve turned into blood-thirsty squirrel-zombies out to torture our peaceful lives in Spencerville.

You see, before I came here, I was just a regular mutt named Lambeau, a German Shepherd mix, living the city life. Now I was about to lead a daring rescue mission for a sunbathing Corgi with a ponytail and a permanent sneer.

Off we went, you could see the Southern Golden Retriever River glistening in the distance and the smell of Pooched Potatoes wafting in the air, luring us towards our beloved Missy. “This is like a hostage drama,” Bruno panted beside me. “I wanted to have a Pup-Peroni at Bow Wow, not a chase-the-heart-attack day.”

I laughed, an unexpected spray of joy in the tense quiet. “Bruno my friend, resistance builds character.”

Together, we braved the post-apocalyptic Spencerville; a gentle giant German Shepherd mix and a hulking Bulldog, reminiscing about squeaky rubber ducks and succulent lamb chops while warding off zombie squirrels.

As the sunset painted the sky in hues of melancholy and the air filled with an eerie quiet, we found Missy perched atop a tree after successfully steering off the infamous zombie squirrels.

“Better late than never,” she smirked, her tongue sticking out at us as we stepped forward, heroes of the day.

From the looks of it, it seemed another adventure awaited us at the break of dawn. Well, bring it on, Spencerville. After all, the town thrived on stories, and who better to spin the tales than us, the pets of the land.

The End.