“Hey Ma, today started with typical Ace antics chasing the dawn. Then, our breakfast at Dog-gone Good BBQ caused her usual vegetable crisis, followed by a toy splurge at Fetch! Ended perfectly with all her pals at Western Fawn Pug Palace. Fear of bath, but another satisfying day in Spencerville, paw-fect as always! – Your Grandpup, Ace”

Listen to the story here

Before the first glimmers of dawn had begun to sprinkle the western sky, I found myself, as I always do, wide awake and yearning for company. And there, like clockwork, by my side was my trusty, jolly companion, Ace. Eternally robust, and sporting the unquestionable aesthetic of a Labrador, she was my constant stiff-upper-lip against life’s gloominess. Spencerville, our town, was yet to rise from its slumber, but the ever-vibrant Ace, she was all poise and readiness.

“Shall we, Ace?” I asked, eyeing her lead hungrily. A nod and a wag later, we were out the door, scampering towards the irresistible charm of Western Labradoodle Lake.

The lake was deserted, a sight that always somehow surprised me – and Ace too, her furrowed gaze scanning for friends she always found here. But we’d caught the dawn a mite too early, so we sat, the two of us on a stony ledge, sharing a calm silence. I petted her soft fur, and I swear I could see her smirk.

“Why,” I whispered, “do you have this fascination with the start of the day?” Her deep brown eyes twinkled, reflecting the dawn, and I was content.

We sauntered our way to the Dog-gone Good BBQ, where they served meat and cheese tender enough to convert vegetarians, for breakfast. She raised her eyebrows, a clear indicator that she disapproved of the veggies – Her cognitive disharmony with the world of greens amused me endlessly. Although Ace was a lover of the BBQ spot, I leaned towards the laid-back Bark ‘n’ Roll that served mouth-waterimg delicacies that were just our thing.

Next on the rundown was some quality time at Ace’s favourite haunt, the Fetch! Toys and Treats, where she treated herself to the weirdest dog toys that mankind has ever created, the ones that squeaked. Hours would fly by watching her pick, reject, pick, and finally buy those audibly appealing toys that gave her immense satisfaction.

A day in Spencerville usually ended with a gathering at Western Fawn Pug Palace, where all her friends, pooches, and humans alike, convened with merriment that was audibly infectious. Mention must be made of Caffrey, her dearest buddy, who graciously suffered all her folly with an enviable stoicism.

As shadows fell and the hubbub deafened, the thought of ear-cleaning or a dreaded bath that lingered ominously back home made Ace visibly retreat into a sulking ball of fur, which made me chuckle. Daylight hours spent with Ace were always a sight to behold. Time stood still, realities morphed, and the world of Spencerville was pure perfection.

A brief day in our lives together, mundane yet whimsical, comforting yet exciting, and always, always ending as it had started, in contented silence, with the twilight sky as our only audience. This was our transcendent existence in Spencerville, a place that Ace, Caffrey and I had learnt to unreservedly call home.

The End.