Alfred had put out an announcement at the last world meeting, he was looking for a dog. He wanted offerings from everyone (after all, he was the hero) and he would pick the hound that he thought fit him the best.
Well that day had come.
America strode into the room, looking around at everyone with a grin. He started with Germany. "Whatcha got, Germany?"
"The finest doberman pinscher. I bred her myself. She is the daughter of my finest dogs."
The dog stared him down, and when he went to touch her, she growled. "R-right! I'll think about it. Thanks Germany!" He moved on. "Italy! Whatcha got?"
"Hey America! This is an Italian Greyhound! They're really fast!"
"... That's a dog?"
"Mhm!"
"... Looks like a rat. On to Japan! Japan, whatcha got?"
"This is a shiba inu puppy, America-san."
"Aww, so cute! What does it do?"
"It's a working breed."
"Does it like to play? Will it play fetch?"
"... No. It works."
"Aww. Next! China, whatcha got?"
"This is a Chinese Crested, aru."
"... Ewwww."
"Hey, aru! That's rude, aru! This a royal -"
"Oh please. Russia?"
He swore he could feel a dark aura around Russia as he held up a strange-looking puppy. It looked almost as if something had broken its snout. "Russkaya Psovaya Borzaya."
"... Right." They both put their hands on its head, and in all honesty, America could have sworn the dog was about to pass out from fear. He smiled and moved on.
"Last but not least! England, Babe, whatcha got?"
England held up a small bundle of fluff. After a few moments of inspection, two big blue eyes appeared.
"... What breed of dog is this?"
"He probably has some labrador in him somewhere."
"Where did you get him?"
"From one of your pounds. Honestly America, with ten million animals entering your shelters every single year do you think I'm going to give you the privilege of having a purebred? Take care of your own problems before making more." He shoved the puppy into America's arms, where the two stared at each other.
"He's sick from living on the streets. His mother and siblings were put to sleep because of overpopulation. You take care of him. And then maybe I'll buy you a nicer dog."
"Nicer? Fuck, there aren't nicer dogs than this!" The puppy licked his fingers. "This dog is the most kickass dog ever! Awesome!" The furball was lifted into the air. "He shall be deemed... Old Glory!"
"Are you serious?"
"Serious like cancer Babe! Thanks! C'mon Old Glory! Let's go show you to the boss!"
Eight to ten million animals enter shelters each year in America. Of those, three to five million are put to sleep. This only counts dogs and cats. This does not count all the animals that starve on the streets, get hit by cars or killed by idiots who need anger help. True facts.