Hey Mom & Dad,

It’s your very own Bear Cub, Vincent. I’ve had quite an adventure in Spencerville – chasing delightful dental bones, enjoying a day at the Tailor, learning the joy of rain, and being a heartthrob in town, all the while missing you both. Considering writing a canine version of “Eat.Pray.Love. Bone.”

Paws & Love,
Vincent aka Bear Cub

Listen to the story here

One peaceful morning, Vincent and I were gallivanting by the South Poodle Pond. Don’t get the wrong idea, really – he wasn’t keen on playing around water, but the serenity of the place offered him the tranquility he held dear. In Spencerville, verdant parks, busy sidewalks, and our simple backyard were his realm, everything else bore unwelcome alienation. You really need to understand this about Vincent; he’s not like those dogs enamored by fetch and tug. Anything but.

“You see,” I whispered into Vincent’s floppy speckled ear, “this is no ordinary town we’re living in.” He perked up a little, looking at me with eyes that could only be called innocent if you’d never seen him tear up a kitchen cupboard in what seemed like a gluten-fueled rampage. Of course, the dear chap couldn’t consume a crumb of it. All the same, he looked up, expectant.

“Word in Spencerville is, they’ve got this fantastic new dental bone over at Bone Appetit that’s simply heavenly.”

I immediately received that look that said, “Say no more, let’s go!” Ah, the things Vincent would do for a dental bone!

We sauntered down the streets, passing the usual hotspots The Wagging Tail Bookstore, which always struck him with curiosity but never to the levels of him actually entering – the modest allure of literacy lost on our old boy. He had his dashing mane cleaned at The Tail Wagger’s Tailor, after which we walked past the Pawfect Training Center, and then to our desired destination.

The moment he got his first taste of the much-raved-about dental bone, it was like watching an artist find his muse in a sunset or a poet finding the harmony in a summer rain. The rest of the day went by in a profound realization of newfound pleasure. He now had a newfound love that even overshadowed his peculiar fascination with his pickle toy, and that from a dog that had never shown inclination towards any playthings earlier.

However, Vincent’s stubborn determination flared up when it started to rain. Despising every drop, he flatly refused to move. Despite protestations, it was a resolute “no” from the furball that outweighed me seven times over.

In Spencerville, and indeed, even beyond it, Vincent continued his journey of discovery, of learning and evolving, making friends, figuring his disfavors and treats, continually tugging at the heartstrings of us, his human friends, who he was on too polite terms to call parents, and unanimously loved by everyone who had the pleasure of knowing him. From his innocent freckled gaze to his freewheeling antics around food – or lack thereof – and his silent solidarity with his sister, he and his softly-thudding tail were the heartbeat of Spencerville.

The End.

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