The Pups 5

POLLY:

I come from what some people call a wealthy background, although there is little that I would consider wealth in it. My family were pedigreed show dogs until the time of the genetic manipulation experiments[1], at which point they simply overthrew their human masters and took the land and estates for their own. This was the atmosphere into which I was born.

My family was not dysfunctional in the traditional sense, but the sense of  love and affection that I would have preferred did not exist. This is entirely the fault of my father, imperious, cold, and lacking in true affection as he was. He terrorized Mother mentally and occasionally physically, breaking her down for every minor trespass against his dignity and his sense of self-worth, which he felt was often. This came down to me when I arrived. He wanted a boy, and never ceased to remind me of my current existence as being Mother’s “mistake” whenever I went against his wishes. As a result, I tended to be punished repeatedly and arbitrarily for things I had not done simply because Father wanted to build my “character”, or something along those lines. While I was a puppy, he slapped me strenuously and at every opportunity and, even when I grew older, he could still cut me to ribbons with the mere sound of his voice.

Things got slightly better when I went away to prep school at Gaddis, the most prestigious school of its kind for dogs in the country[2]. Here I was able to prove to  myself how valued I really was in the world to others in addition to Mother. Not only did I excel academically, but I found myself lettering in several sports. I earned particular rewards for my study of science, technology and the classics and my skill on the track and in the karate dojo, which helped to boost what little self-esteem I had. This was because Father still regarded me as a “mistake” and never ceased to refer to me as such.

It was when I returned home after graduating that Mother confronted me with a secret from her past that severely affected me. It had happened that when she was younger and “more foolish”, she had traveled to the southern states in order to eke out a career on the primary lower-class canine vehicle for entertainment, the kibble circuit[3]. She danced in those clubs for only a month or so before realizing that this was not the life for her. She promptly returned home, married Father and gave birth to me. However, one night while traveling, she was involved in an auto accident in Rolling Fork, Mississippi, Some sort of meteor had landed on the ground fresh from a descent from the farthest reaches of outer space. She learned later, upon returning home and receiving a physical examination, that any children she had were to be affected in strange, supernatural ways, specifically that they would receive superpowers.

“Mother!” I said, stunned, in sotto voce so Father would not overhear. “What are you saying? Are you implying that I have some sort of genetic abnormality?”

“No,” she answered. “You have been blessed with a great gift, Polly. And you need to make sure that you use it well, to correct the mistakes of others.”

“So, what exactly am I capable of?” I asked, still suspicious.

“You know what you did at school, Ms. Scholar!” Mother answered. “I was told that your speed, strength and intelligence would be enhanced by the time you hit puberty. Undoubtedly, you did things that reflected that! ”

She was right. I had.

I reviewed the events of my schooling fairly quickly. Had I not made the Honour Roll? Been praised for my English, Science and Latin studies? Set the intercollegiate record in the Women’s 100m dash? Earned a third-degree black belt in karate? Defeated most of my chums in the school paw wrestling competition?

It suddenly made sense to me. I had never been inferior to my fellows or to Mother and Father- in many ways, I had been superior to them! But Father had been so intent on putting me down that he barely noticed or acknowledged any of my gifts or abilities! He was a monster for treating Mother and I the way he did- and I suddenly felt the need to play Hamlet and gain my vengeance!

I told Mother I was going to speak to Father privately- and then I was off to seek my fortune in whatever field I wanted to- for was I not capable of doing so? She agreed, but suggested I be as tactful as I could in addressing Father. I could not offer her any promises.

I proceeded to Father’s study and knocked with all the civility I could muster under my changed circumstances. Once he allowed me to open the door, however, the civility in my manner vanished. Newly empowered with the knowledge of the powers I possessed, I now felt able to confront him for the first time as an equal rather than an inferior.

“What does my mistake want now?” were the first words he said when he turned around in his big leather chair.

My efforts to restrain my rage at this familiar taunt were strong, and they worked, at first.

“Father,” I said politely but firmly, “I demand that you stop treating me and Mother so poorly. What gives you the right to assume that you will always have territorial dominion over me and my affairs?”

He sat without blinking an eye for a second or more: I can’t remember exactly how long it was. But I do remember what he said. As usual, he was unemotional and completely unforgiving.

“Hippolyte…” he said, referring to me by my despised full name to get my goat “…It does not matter how I treat you and your mother, for whatever I do to both of you is in your best interests to endure.”

“You mean YOUR best interests!” I shouted, almost rattling the frames of the photographs on the walls. “Mother may well be accustomed to being treated as your dishrag, but I am not, and I never will be! I insist that you change your way of dealing with us AT ONCE!”

His anger was aroused by this comment, for he has never once backed away from a challenge or a fight. Quickly, he bolted out from behind his desk and prepared to face me as if we were fighting a duel. Fortunately, I had inherited his mental and physical tenacity, and I stood firm in my desire to face him. Before I could do anything else, his paw had shot towards mine and he squeezed it with his usual force. He had disciplined me many times in this fashion and, being as weak as I was, I always had to take it. I would do so no longer, although I deceptively made it appear, at first, that I would do so again as he dragged me down to my knees while I yelped.

“I will not warn you again not to go against my desires!” he roared into my face “Females like you are inferior, good only for breeding and attending to my needs! The ones in this family cannot and will not assume duties beyond that so long as they reside here. That is their intended place, and you had better accept it.”

“I WILL NOT!” I roared.

Finally displaying my full speed and strength to him, I broke his hold on me and smashed him into the wall while I proceeded to light into him. I am not normally violent, but we Greyhounds are capable of being as vicious and destructive as any other dogs when our tempers are aroused. And this was as justifiable a reason as any for being violent!

“You listen carefully, you antiquated old fossil!” I barked at him. “I am capable of destroying you if I see fit but, as you are my father, you are lucky I have chosen to allow parental relations to yield over my desire to rip your body apart piece by piece. Now understand this: I am mentally and physically superior to you in every way, and I will not allow you to continue to pretend you are superior to me simply because you are male! You will treat me with respect, and Mother as well. Because, the last time I checked, I was your sole heir, and I am perfectly capable of removing your sources of life any time I wish to take over your assets! Now, will you co-operate or not?”

But then he shocked me himself, in a way I had never expected to be shocked, even by him.

“So!” he said caustically “Ms. Super Dog thinks that now that she has inherited her powers she inherits my wealth as well!” Then he broke my hold on him. “It does not work that way, young lady!”

“Father!” I said, stunned. “You know?”

“Of course I know!” he said, smugly. “Your mother was never one to keep a secret from me. And I know when I am confronted by threats.”

He took a shot of the cognac he usually drank and sipped it down carefully. Following this, he grabbed my ears and boxed them with strength that was greater than mine, and I meekly dropped to the floor.

“When I was aware that my only child would grow up to be more powerful than I, I knew I had to take action,” he said. “I drink this special brand of cognac because it contains a strength serum that continually recharges me. It makes sure I will always be more powerful than you, no matter how strong you get. You will simply have to wait until I am gone to start throwing your weight around, like all the other nice girls.”

“And how long will that be?” I asked him.

“Not for a while yet,” he said. “You know those headaches you and your mother always give me? Well, a side effect of that is that they create immortality in their users through the decomposition of the chemical bases. I intended for that as well. So I intend to be around for a long time, and you’d better get used to it. That is, if you outlive me!”

“You MONSTER!” I shouted “You’re deliberately trying to…”

“Enough!” he said imperiously. “Now you have a choice, dear Polly. Either you remain here and stay faithful to me like a good little girl, or you can go find your destiny in the world without my help. But I will need you to apologize to me first if you intend to stay.”

Apologize? To him? I could NEVER do that. Even though I knew the risks I’d be taking going out into the world alone, without help, it was a far better alternative than staying in the mansion, getting old, and being my father’s handmaid.

“I will take my leave of you, Father,” I said coldly, duplicating his usual tone of disrespect towards me. “The outside world may be cold and friendless towards me, but there will also be more warmth and friendship for me there than anything you could provide!”

“Then get out!” he said flatly. “And do not return until you are prepared to apologize to me for your disrespect!”

He hadn’t changed at all. I tried firing one more salvo.

“HOW DARE YOU!” I thundered. “You accuse me of disrespecting you, when all along it has been vice versa! Yes, father, I will return- OVER YOUR DEAD BODY!”

And I ran, crying, out of the room, while he did nothing to stop me.

Even though Mother wanted me to remain, I told her I could no longer remain under the same roof while that tyrant pretending to be my father was there. I promised I would keep in touch, however, as soon as I got settled. But it was not until I had boarded the bus for New York, the nearest city, that I realized my prospects with only a prep school background and no work experience were fairly limited, and I began crying. I continued crying as I sat down to rest, with my few remaining possessions, in the park near the bus station. This was where I first met and befriended Stephen Mutt, my friend, confidante and ultimate savior. But the facts of how this happened can be related by the others in our group better than I could possibly explain them.

*****

STEVE:

Polly chilled me with that story of hers. She needed help, and I wanted to give it to her. Maybe she had no family left, but she’d damn well have at least one friend in this world if I had anything to say about it!

“Stephen,” she said (for she has always been quite formal in using first names) “I am desperate! I am desperate like I have never been before in my life! I need to stay somewhere, and find a job, but I have no connections here!”

“Listen, if you want, you can stay with me until you get back on your paws,” I said. “I’m in the same situation right now. We dogs need to stay together if we’re going to get the humans to take us seriously, after all. Besides, you must be smart and determined to try to make it here; that’s what you need to survive. And I don’t think anybody would let a beautiful girl like you be out of work for long!”

“Oh, Stephen!” she said, blushing the same way I had when I met Patty. But unlike me, she quickly regained her composure. She, unlike Patty, was and is not the type who can advertise herself and her….wares that brazenly.

“But what would I do?” she asked, with genuine concern in her voice.

“Well, my partner and I are planning to do this television series,” I explained, “and we could always use another paw. Especially since we have the Rolling Fork connection and all.”

“So you had a parent who was there?” she asked “And your partner?”

“My mom and her dad,” I said. “We’re in the same state as you are, Polly, and it’s only fair that we help you out. And maybe you can do the same for us.”

“And is your partner okay with this?”

“No, I’m not,” said my “partner”, who had just arrived on the scene. “But thanks for asking![4]”

PATTY:

New York is a jungle. For you humans, maybe, but definitely for us dogs. We have to fight for everything and protect it from being stolen from us once we get it. That goes for food, shelter, and, among us girls, definitely boys. And the cuter and handsomer your boy is, the more you got to assert your right to first dibs on his services. That was clearly what was going on when I walked into that little episode. Obviously, I couldn’t leave Stevie alone for a minute without some other shapely serpent trying to ensnare him in her coils. Sure, girl dogs can look cute, but get between us and our boys- or our kids- and[5] you have a whole world of hurt waiting for you! And seeing Steve in the clutches of this new stranger, what with her curves and her eyes and her pouty mouth going all in for the kill (or so it seemed to me at first, anyway) really pissed me off, in royal style. I mean, how dare these rich, out-of-town girls assume that my stuff was theirs for the taking! I’d had too many bad experiences with that already, not so much with sex since I wasn’t too into it before I met Steve, but for food and jobs and other sorts of opportunities like that. I kind of assumed that if I blew thunder and shook my fist a bit, this one would fold pretty quickly, just like the rest of them all did when I threatened to tear the fur off their scalps if they didn’t vacate my premises post hate. But I hadn’t met Polly Greyhound yet, and I didn’t even remotely think we’d become pals after that first encounter. Neither did she, apparently. But we weren’t aware of what we were capable of yet, and it was only after that that the friendship thing started kicking in.

POLLY:

My first encounter with Patricia Setter was certainly something both of us remember very well, to say the least. Female dogs such as we are are frequently locked in competition for even seemingly trivial things such as access to boys. Not that they do not compete for us with similar gusto but, between girls, this tends to become more of a personal issue. Yes, it is a dumb and antiquated process, competing for everything amongst themselves, but it is something that is written with terrific force into the DNA of every dog, boy and girl, from our species’ first existence, and something that we honor and obey even without recognition of it. Patricia and I, suffice it to say, were both aware of the unwritten code that seems to exist among female dogs: that there can be only one who is truly dominant over the others in a particular geographic space and time. And, indeed, Patricia has made it clear to me repeatedly in our time together that that position, physically at least, among we Pups belongs to her and her alone. (She does admit that I surpass her in speed and intelligence, but only barely and begrudgingly). However, when we first encountered each other that day in the park, we were not friends or acquaintances but strangers. Thus, a struggle for dominance was not only expected of us, it was one that seemed genetically hard-wired into us, due to the lasting and continual enmity that exists between the competing social structures from which we emerged. But that was not in my mind then. At that time, I saw in her only a muscle-bound nimrod who considered me an opponent in her quest to dominate access to Stephen. This was not true. I liked him and all but, through our adventures, I found someone who was more compatible with me romance-wise[6]. However, she insulted my honor, and my purpose in engaging her in the battle that was to follow was purely to show her that I was not the wide-eyed wallflower she seemed to think I was then.

STEVE:

Patty had returned then. I think she misconstrued what Polly and I were doing at the time- severely! And she seemed to me intent on destroying the both of us- her for flirting me, me for betraying her- with all of the strength she had at her command. Not wanting her to strangle me to death, I tried to raise my lips in protest, but she didn’t seem to pay me any attention at that moment. Those green eyes of hers seemed firmly locked on Polly’s blue ones, and some sort of primordial female canine challenge was clearly going to take place. Patty looked at Polly as if she was fully prepared to tear her apart, and she had the muscles to do it. As much as I disliked the unfolding scene, all I could do for the moment was watch.

“All right, skinny!” Patty shouted at Polly “Get away from my boy before I rip out your vertebrae! Think you can flirt with whoever you want, huh? Not on my watch!”

Polly was not dissuaded. She stood up and glared at Patty as if she had been insulted, which, to all intents and purposes, she had.

“I beg your PARDON?” she snapped at Patty, paws on hips.

I tried in vain to insert myself between them in a futile attempt to fend off the violence which seemed inevitable.

“Come on, Pat!” I protested to Patty “It’s not what you think…”

“The hell it isn’t!” Patty replied, seating me back on the bench with a push of the paw. “This so-called “lady” is trying to steal you from me! Don’t think I don’t know what you and your type do to me and mine, kid! This is so just like you wealthy girls! You think you can take anything you want, by any means necessary! Well, you’re not getting him!”

Polly’s eyes and lips quivered for a second. Then she took action. She removed her pantsuit in one fluid motion, revealing a red leotard with a prominent “G” in the center (I later learned this was her principal athletic uniform at her alma mater Gaddis, hence the “G”[7]). She flexed her forelimbs to display her strength to Patty, accompanying this with a vicious growl. A split second later, she was side by side with Patty, and they were wrestling. Polly’s speed allowed her a brief advantage, and she took all the time she needed to display her inner power to Patty, who was showing a surprising amount of pain as she winced from Polly’s initial attack.

“I will take no more of your flippancy, you guttersnipe!” Polly snarled as she disrobed and tackled Patty “Your “boy” was merely trying to console me, and nothing else!” They grunted and groaned for a minute, with Patty covering Polly’s mouth for a moment until the latter administered a surprisingly powerful bite on the arm, causing Patty to yell and curse and retract her paw from Polly’s mouth in both shock and pain. Clearly, she (and I) were being made aware that despite Polly’s initial appearance of shy feminine weakness, she was a force to be reckoned with when challenged[8]. Then they separated for a minute, staring each other down.

“Don’t fool around with me, princess!” Patty snapped, “Or I’ll wipe the floor with you!”

“Don’t threaten me, you insolent mongrel!” Polly growled back “You have insulted my honor, and now you will face my WRATH!”

“THAT DOES IT!” Patty yelled, loud enough for everybody in the area of the park to hear it, though it was only us there at that time. “I’ll show you that you’re not top girl around here! That’s my job, and I don’t give it up easily.”

“I welcome the challenge,” Polly answered, with an edge of sarcasm. “Taking the wind out of boastful imbeciles like you is something I quite enjoy!”

“What?” Patty demanded, in a confused way. She didn’t seem to understand Polly’s high toned language, and Polly was gleefully taking advantage of it, using a skill she possessed but Patty did not in order to humble her.

Polly did not respond to the last comment Patty made with words. Instead, she lunged at her foe and proceeded to knock her to the ground with a vicious punch. She then leaped on her and they began wrestling violently. Patty quickly staged a counter-attack, freeing herself from Polly and belting her in the gut. Just to be safe, it seemed, she added a couple more blows to the chest and head. Polly staggered to the ground under the weight of the recurring blows, and Patty added to insult to injury by grabbing her long forearms and viciously squeezing them.

But Polly was not to be defeated so easily. Patty had failed to corral her back legs, and her opponent was able to take advantage of this. Polly screamed viciously and aimed a well-placed karate kick with her right back leg which proceeded to drop Patty down to Earth. Then they were wrestling on the ground again, spinning and whirling, grabbing for every free piece of each other’s anatomy and ripping chunks of each other’s fur off. I watched this tempestuous display until they aimed right for me on the bench. I ran off as they crashed into it, the combined force of their bodies completely shattering the wooden boards and rendering the bench useless for sitting on in the process. But as they sat there near what remained of the bench, it was clear that they still wanted to go at it- and that they wouldn’t stop until either they killed each other or something or somebody intervened to end the fight. Somebody did just that.

By this time I had had enough of this. I was not a sex object over which two girls were magisterially selected to fight over, and I did not intend on being one at this point in time. The medieval way in which girls fought over guys in our culture had always frustrated me anyhow. Did they think the only thing we were good for was doing it with them, if and when they said it[9]? I never live by those rules, not then, not now.

At any rate, before the two of them could pounce on each other for another round of “I’m The Best And Biggest Girl In The World”, I took them both by the scruffs of their necks and held them with all the strength I could muster while I read them my personalized version of the Riot Act.

“Enough already!” I said “I will not be fought over! You get that, huh, you two thick headed idiots? Maybe back in the old days you could have battled it out like dinosaurs over me before talking to me about it first, but that’s over now, and so is this!” I proceeded to throw them both back on the ground, on the grass, of course. “Now we’re going to talk about this rationally, and without any more scrapping, or else!” I continued.

Patty and Polly were both stunned. I don’t think Patty, at least, had ever had a boy talk to her that forcefully but, as they explained to me later, they both admired my physical strength and strength of character from that point on[10]. Those qualities, they said, were what convinced them that I was fully capable of taking charge in any situation, and they began treating me with a heightened level of respect.

I proceeded to explain to Patty about Polly and her background, since she obviously needed some enlightening on that point. That really cracked the ice. Patty soon began explaining herself to Polly, and they reached not only an understanding, but a friendship. Polly, Patty said to me, was now part of the group, whether I thought she should be or not. She didn’t need to persuade me, since I already wanted her in anyway. Patty and I both understood that we needed all the friends we could get, personally and professionally.

“I’ll say one thing about you, Pol’,” Patty declared to her new female acquaintance, the first one she had who had proved herself something of an equal to her. “I don’t want to get on your bad side in a fight! I’m tough, but you nearly creamed me with that karate jazz! And the speed…man! Rolling Fork did us some good, didn’t it?”

“You’re correct on that point, Patricia!” Polly answered “And I don’t want to upset you, either. Had I not had my speed and physical prowess, you would certainly have killed me.”

“Well, just as we’re okay on one thing” Patty replied. “Stevie is mine. You gotta get your own.”

“Agreed.” said Polly. “But he can still be my friend. Correct?”

“No problem with that,” Patty answered. And they shook paws and laughed. I smiled. I didn’t need to broker a truce. Female dogs may be suspicious of strangers, but they are fine when they get to know each other.

Unfortunately, this idyll was not to last for us. We were promptly visited by an emissary of the other, human world- that despised emissary of law and order whom we knew, feared and hated as “the dogcatcher”[11]. This office was represented by a tall, swarthy man with an Irish face and a Mississippi accent, who saw us, as most humans did then, as statistics rather than independent beings. Clearly, he was intending to increase his paycheck by bringing us in, as he moved towards us with a cocky strut, in his blue uniform, and holding an oversized butterfly net.

“Licenses?” he asked us with obviously faux concern.

We had none, so we collectively shook our heads. Licenses were a bit of an outmoded anachronism in our times, since there were relatively few dogs who chose to remain as pets after the havoc caused by the genetic experiments[12]. However, they remained a cheap and effective way of regulating the canine population, and supposedly keeping us in our “place”, whatever that meant.

The gentleman’s moon face promptly expanded into a wide grin.

“Three unlicensed dogs!” he said almost to himself, as he was ignoring our small growls of protest. “What a good haul!”

I stepped forward, attempting to reason with the man.

“Sir…” I said calmly. “There’s no need to arrest us. We haven’t committed any crime.”

“Oh.” he answered. “And that park bench destroyed itself, did it?” He pointed to the dismantled bench. We had no sure defense for that.

“That was an accident!” I answered him

“An “accident” ?” he asked suspiciously. “That’s what you call meeting cute now? Bet you got both of them in the basket, eh, didn’t you, you rapist?”

“I didn’t “get” either of them, you JERK!” I answered with increasing heat. “How can you just assume that I was making love to them without any concrete evidence?”

“I did it the last thirty times…” he said unashamedly “…and nobody checked up on me then. They won’t this time, either, if I’m lucky.”

My jaw just dropped. Thirty times he had undertaken this shakedown and thirty times he had imprisoned innocent dogs just because they had been hanging around his neighborhood without his precious license[13]! The animal control department of New York City was deliberately profiling us, and, he was implying, there was nothing we dogs could do about it except do as we were told. Not if I could help it!

“Listen, Mr. White Man With A Badge!” I shouted “You have no idea what we’ve been through in the last few hours! If you could possibly get through your thick head that…”

He cut me off by bopping me in the face with one of his meaty hands. As strong as dogs can get, they are no match for human beings on the warpath. This was why Patty and Polly didn’t rush to help me; had it been a fellow dog that hit me, they would have been in the thick of it right away.

“I don’t give a CARE what you’ve been doing, boy!” the man shouted at me “All I know is that you and your harem have broken the law on my watch, and you’ll be locked up by me! Now get your dog asses into the wagon!”

Waving his net threateningly, he chased us into his vehicle without further remarks from any of us.

The pound! The stick that had been waved at all of us pups when we were young and behaved poorly[14]! Granted, now that we were adult dogs and in full control of our destinies, it didn’t seem as threatening as it once had, but the idea of having a record and being seen as common criminals still held a great horror for us. The consequences for our social status were drastic, but also, our own apprehension seemed so unjust due to the actions that had led up to it. Patty, thankfully, had been there before; she was proof that the taint, such as it was, only existed in certain quarters and only if we were combative enough to bring it up as a badge of experience should it be required. Furthermore, she assured us she would help us if we got into any trouble while we were there.

“Scout’s Honor,” she said.

Polly and I had her trust by this time, and we also knew she was not one to go back on her words.

*

Now, I had never been as unfortunate as to have been arrested and imprisoned in my life. My reputation as part of The Pups has helped to limit the amount of time I have spent in the clutches of the law. So this one time in the pound was pretty much the only time for this, both for myself and Polly, due to the fact that both of us led fairly sheltered lives. For Patty, and our newest acquaintances, it was another story, of course, and it tempered my already tenuous faith in the fair execution of the law in America for our canine kind.

The place was imposing and as seemingly impenetrable as the Chateau D’If. While we had no chains on our paws, there remained the overwhelming sense that we were “guests” of the state and were to exist as best we could under the extremely limited and limiting conditions provided to us. All told, I have never felt more small and powerless at any other time in my life than I did in that pound. My friends felt the same but there was the sense among us that, even though we had been cornered by the law, they were not the kind of people who could hold us in check for long.

After being rushed off the wagon, we were escorted to the holding area, which consisted of small pens resembling the catacombs of a dungeon more than they did any modern institute of corrections for humans. When we arrived at our area, with its rank, overpowering stench and complete and utter lack of sunlight and ventilation, our guard made an especially racist comment about how the three of us could help our cell mates “repopulate” the area, and then, with sharp slaps on our butts with a cat o’ nine tails he magically produced from out of nowhere, we were shoved in, and left alone to acquaint ourselves with our new surroundings and colleagues.

[2] Established in 2020 on the site of an abandoned old human academy, Gaddis was and is the most prestigious academy of its kind. [Ed.]

[3] Similar, but not entirely the same as, the African American “chitlin’ circuit” which circulated in the U.S. between the 1940s and 1970s, and intended for the same purpose: the entertainment of a disenfranchised community discriminated against by more polite society. [Ed.]

[4] Patty also employed some profanity in addressing Polly at this moment, but this has been removed from the text for obvious reasons. [Ed.]

[5] Not to mention their spectacular joint careers as activists for feminism among female dogs, which grew out of and complemented their activities in the Pups. [Ed.]

[6] His narrative is forthcoming in these chronicles. [Ed.]

[7] It was then and still is today, and remains in Polly’s possession as a sign of her loyalty to her alma mater, “the place where I finally found myself.” [Ed.]

[8] This would be something the Pups’ opponents would also underestimate in the future. [Ed.]

[9] Consequently, as much as Patty and Polly have campaigned for the social rights of females, Steve has been active in advocating for equality between the genders in sexual practices, an attitude clearly stemming from this event. [Ed.]

[10] Both Patty and Polly have confirmed this statement off the record. [Ed.]

[11] Formally known as an “animal control officer”, this position pre-dated the humanization of the dogs and was mostly rendered obsolete by their development into a humanized species. However, this was not a universally accepted attitude, and, especially in the earliest days of humanization as depicted here, the position still existed in larger communities such as New York to continue the “regulation” of the dog population. Through the campaigning of the Pups and others, the position was finally abolished from public life in 2040 [Ed.]

[12] In spite of this, some pet owners were still interested in converting their dogs into humanized beings, and thus some of them were also made part of Foster’s experimentations, though they escaped along with the others when his lab was destroyed. [Ed.]

[13] This was by far one of the most common means by which dogs were victimized by the human population, and many corrupt dogcatchers were keen to reap the monetary rewards of keeping as many animals as they could “out of sight and out of mind” through this process. [Ed.]

[14] Similar to human children being threatened with jail, and with the same intention behind it. Pounds of this period resembled medieval jails, with numerous beings to a cell and little in the way of proper care or sanitation for the inmates. Along with their work against dogcatchers, the Pups would be deeply committed to reform pound conditions for much of their career due to their experience here. [Ed.]