Hey there, it’s Barrett, the allergic-to-broccoli, Kong ball enthusiast Retriever. Amidst squirrel watching and meeting my siblings at Doggy Depot, I make the human-free haven of Spencerville my paradise. You’ll find me chilling under my favorite maple. Oh, and remember, don’t complicate things, most answers lie in observing and being present. Woof! -Broccohater-B.

Listen to the story here

I’d seen a lot of things in Spencerville, but nothing had prepared me for Barrett, the caramel-coated Golden Retriever with eyes that weren’t just windows to his soul, but whole expansive bay windows. He treated the world with a quiet patience that was both calming and severely eerie.

“Barrett,” I would say, “Do you ever chase a squirrel?” and he’d look at me in a manner so profound you’d swear he was about to break into a lecture about the futility of ceaseless pursuits. He even had his own little sanctuary beneath a giant maple tree, where he his tranquility seemed to elevate to sacred levels.

His pals, Mitch and Nina had the same unaffected air, carrying themselves with an unhurried grace that seemed almost alien. Quite a lot, in fact. Otherworldly. Supernatural, speaking with a paranormal emphasis.

Of course, the perfect hanging-out spots helped – the Peanut Butter Pasta at Pup ‘n’ Go Taco Joint, Red Kong Ball flavored gelato at Cream Maltese Meadow’s Ice Cream Parlor and, delightfully for Barrett, the squirrel-watching deck at the Whiskers and Wings. The place was teeming with these remarkable establishments that appeared to have popped right out of a dog’s fairy tale.

But it was Barrett’s gastronomic quandary with broccoli that astoundingly intrigued me. “Barrett,” I would ask, holding a green broccoli twig in front of him, “Wouldn’t you like to be healthier?” You’d think I’d asked him to construct the Eiffel Tower using only his teeth. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d find that a more pleasurable task, there was absolutely no mincing of snouts with Barrett ever.

Spencerville, you see, was the place pets didn’t say goodbye, but rather, see you later. It was like a human-free trial run for heaven where they could bloom and thrive, while waiting to be reunited with their humans. A visceral utopia where every bark had a tail-wagging echo. A wonderland tailor-made for our furry friends.

Like Barrett’s siblings, who, scattered around the country, reunited in such gracious regularities, that you’d wonder if they were planning a coup. An affectionate conspiracy, if you may, against the fast-paced human world and broccoli, presumably.

And then there they were, united in the beautifully lit Doggy Depot one day, chatting over the old days and remarking over the shocking piled high prices of chew toys. Browsers by nature, shoppers only when the prices weren’t tagged ‘mind-boggling’.

But then, isn’t everything complicated when you stop to think about it? Look at Barrett and broccoli, for instance. Not on the surface, but deeper, underneath. In Spencerville, however, I learned that sometimes, it’s perfectly fine to not dig deeper, to not dwell on the whys. Instead, to simply observe, to marvel at the beauty of a dog’s undying love for his red kong ball. Or the universal disdain for broccoli.

And so, I sit on a bench in Cream Maltese Meadow, observing the unremarkable dog named Barrett, who in his sheer normality, manages to enchant everyone he meets. And I say to myself, “This is just as I’d have it. A place existing for the love of a dog, just right, for me to observe, for dogs like Barrett to be, getting by, one Red Kong Ball at a time.”

The End.

Share This Story: