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You don’t know our names, you don’t know where we live. But you do. We live in your town. In your walls.
It used to be the case that we were normal mall rats. That is, until we became literal mall rats. Naked mall rats. More on that later.
Me? I’m just someone’s dog. Just a dog who became a man, and a man who learned to be a dog. I can’t tell you my last name (I don’t have one) (I’m a dog). You can call me Bluto.
You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m used to not getting my way. See, most people think I’m a little odd. A weirdo. I don’t fit in, and I don’t want to fit in. Around here, fitting in means getting an alien slug in your ear called a “Yeerk” that controls all your actions, and me? I like my privacy.
Fitting in also means transforming into a human sometimes to go to human events. I don’t know how and why I started being able to transform into a human. I guess I’m just a lucky dog.
My one philosophy in life is, “Just go with the flow.” That’s something my uncle taught me. He died in 1998, five years ago. I miss him every day. I was on my way to his five-year funeral memorial anniversary, when something happened that changed my perspective on the world…forever.