Hey Mom,

I’m Gus from Spencerville! Smashed my way through the annual Dog Be-line marathon in Westie Woods and faced ruff competition. Overwhelmed by freedom and new beginnings, feeling like a champ. Spencerville, not a different game, just a new playground. Can’t wait for our next race. Buckle up and remember the name, Gus the Destroyer!

Much love,

Gus the Destroyer

Listen to the story here

I felt the hush of Spencerville sprawling out before me, basking in the silence of my anticipation. I was Gus, remember me? Yeah, the Bulldog with the white streak down my head and the boundless energy that went beyond my sparkling eyes.

My first day in this new place was much like the first day of School, exhilarating yet somewhat uncertain. I found myself before the magnificent Westie Woods, my heart pounding with every leaf that shivered in the wind. The excitement was thumping through my veins, I’m not even kidding, tickling my curiosity with every bated breath.

“Welcome Gus,” the English Bulldog intoned, his tone carrying the profound wisdom his years had yielded, “Ready for the Spencerville’s annual Dog Be-line?”

I swallowed the lump of nervous anticipation, nodding my head vigorously. A dog’s race in Westie Woods, no less. Not just any race, we’re talking about the legendary ‘Dog Be-line’, a marathon, every breed for themselves. Fasten your dog collars, it’s about to get ruff.

Beanbone marked the trail, a familiar way-marker, and a kind voice from my past life. Oatmeal cream pies, I licked my chops remembering that sweet snack. I almost missed it. The starting gun barked – a game of tag, canine version, and suddenly we were running.

I darted down the path, bolting past Pawsitively Purrfect Pet Store, through the dogged fragrance of The Dapper Dog Salon, and took a pivotal turn at Doggie Daycare with adrenaline coursing through my veins. Canine competitors on my tail, the woofs and barks fueling me further, I picked up speed.

“Make way!” I heard myself growl, glimpsing Kibble Cuisine and Ruff-n-Ready, a sudden pang of homesickness strumming on my heartstrings. I had to win, for comrades left behind.

On the last leg, the stunning vista of Silver Siberian Summit ahead, hopes soared high. Disbelief and resolve fused within me. This was not just a race; it was my dedication to those I cherished and the unveiling of my new life.

Then it struck, the glorious sight of East Pug Palace, the finish line and the overwhelming cheer of the crowd piercing the air, radiating warmth and acceptance. I crossed it, the thrill of victory rushing over me, setting every nerve alight.

Freedom tasted like sweet victory, damp with the sweat of my brow yet delicious down to the last morsel. New beginnings were seldom so sweet, seldom so thrilling.

Spencerville wasn’t too much of a different game. It was just another day in the park and for a Bulldog like me, I was up for the race. That’s me, a gung-ho, joyous, slightly obstinate Bulldog named Gus, standing tall in my new happy place, ready for whatever Spencerville would throw my way. Remember my name. You and I, we’ll race again.

The End.

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