Hey family,

Just made it through another bustling day in Spencerville – conquered my fear of the Groom Room (looking suave now), bagged a spaghetti date with Daisy, the Dalmatian (turns out, we both adore spaghetti!). Now, I’m not just your regular Merlin, I’m Merlin of Maltese Meadows, sharing sunset spaghetti and stories with my spotted sweetheart. Who knew life could be this fun! Catch you on the flip side.

– Magic Merlin

Listen to the story here

I wake with the Spencerville sun warming my brindle fur. It’s another day in paradise for us in the afterlife. I, Merlin, the humble pug, tail curled just right, embark on my town-trotting adventures.

A whiff of Bow Wow Burgers hits me, and my paws itch to sprint towards a hearty breakfast. But wait! Today’s the day I conquer my fear. It’s time for a visit to The Groom Room. Unlike the dread-filled vet visits of my past, The Groom Room’s a place where fur’s fluffed, nails are chipped to perfection, and I leave feeling like a top dog. It’s just the washing bit I’m not too fond of. I shudder at the memory of the wet and wild pool disasters.

Heading towards Lower Golden Gate Gardens, I notice Daisy, a Dalmatian who’s just too spotted for my taste. She moves with the grace of an animated snowfall, which is endearing in a “stay-far-enough-to-not-catch-spots” kind of way. But love is blind, or in my case, pretends to not see the spots.

She loves Maltese Meadow. Why? Beats me! Maybe she inclines towards dogs named after geographical locations. Strategy forms and I decide that from henceforth, I shall be known as Merlin of Maltese Meadow.

A detour later lands us at the buzzing Doggy Bagel Deli. She’s loving the place, and I can see my own affection reflected in her eyes. No, wait, that’s the spaghetti. My spaghetti! She’s eating spaghetti. I gesture for another plate, bracing for impact. Dalaimatians and their picky eating habits are notorious, after all.

She curls her lips around the noodles, a blissful sigh following each bite. A spaghetti lover in Spencerville! I’m smitten. Maybe, just maybe, she might be the one to share my quirks, to appreciate my gastronomical delights beyond biscuits and bones.

Surrounded by the carefree laughter of our fellow Spencervillians at Whiskers and Wings, I indulge in the most delicious chicken, watching her beam in delight. It’s clear she’s fallen for my charms – or perhaps it’s the spaghetti. Who can really tell?

As we cross The Woofy Bakery, our laughter mingles with the chimes of the shop. Daisy suddenly grows quiet, her usual spark dimming. “The Woofy Bakery… I miss my family!”, the words escape her in a whisper.

Here’s where I shine. I regale her with stories of my past life – I’d been the only dog in my family, yet never lonely with humans showering me with love. Soon enough, we are laughing again, her spotted coat blending perfectly with my imagination of what snow-covered Spencerville would look like.

By the time the first stars begin to twinkle, we’re back at South Poodle Pond, the two of us reflected in its calm waters. She rests her head on my shoulder, a comforting weight that feels like home, a sense of belonging I hadn’t known I’d missed until now. Daisy is my perfect contradiction – spots against my brindle coat, spaghetti lover amongst the biscuit masses.

I am the brave Merlin of Maltese Meadow, no longer afraid of water, or being alone, forever destined to share spaghetti at sunset with my Dalmatian dame. Spencerville, you charming little town, isn’t life a beautiful romcom!

The End.