Polly named him Lewis, and made sure he knew about his namesake as soon as she could. He looked so much like his father. He did, however, have a bit of black hair that she was sure she had given him.

Polly loved her little guy.

He was terribly reckless, and not very smart. Much like Underdog. Polly didn't mind. Lewis was her perfect little angel, even if he did fall out of trees fairly often.

Lewis was rather proud that Polly was his mother. Not from her news show, though; Lewis was very happy that she was a character in The Underdog Show.

Lewis was twelve years old now, and he never stopped liking Underdog. It was one of the only things he spoke about at school and with teachers. He also quite liked Thomas the Tank Engine, eating cheese on apples, and Pokemon, but he thought those interests were significantly more embarrassing.

That day, at school, chromebooks covered the desks of the reading room. Lewis smiled as he took his seat.

"Cool Math time~!" said his best friend, Skye Highe, in a sing-song voice.

Lewis smiled a bit further and interlaced his fingers. He couldn't wait to challenge Skye in a game of 2048. He soon stopped thinking that, though, as the teacher passed out sheets of notebook paper. Lewis blew a disappointed raspberry.

But then the teacher spoke. "Class," she announced, "Today you will be drafting an essay about a person who inspires you, and why."

Lewis perked up. He could absolutely do that! He pulled open his laptop, not bothering to listen to the guidelines. He was too caught up in the thought of writing about Underdog!

Quickly, Lewis opened up Wikipedia and searched for Underdog's name. He never actually read Underdog's article, as surprising as that was. His Mom didn't really let him use the Internet unless she was around. Lewis was alright with that, he was perfectly content watching his Underdog DVDs, or playing outside with Skye and his cousin Wilbur, or playing Emerald.

As soon as the page loaded, Lewis' eyes glanced over to the box at the side. He practically copied everything it said down on his paper.

Born: Lewis N. Clark, Jr., September 25, 1975

Lewis' face started to hurt because of how much he was smiling. Underdog was named Lewis too! And Lewis was born four days before Underdog was!

Occupation: Superhero

Years Active: 1996-2002

Lewis froze as he saw the next lines. His eyes went wide in pure shock and horror. He could feel his stomach twist into knots as his happiness shattered.

Died: February 15, 2002

Cause of death: Suicide by overdose

"Are you good, Lewis?" asked Skye, across from him.

Lewis let out a small squeak and felt his eyes water. "N-no…" he answered.

Skye leaned over the railing of the desks as Lewis hung his head in his hands. She placed her hand on his shoulder. "What's up, man? You were so bright a second go."

"Look…" Lewis squeaked. He turned his screen in Skye's direction and pointed at the infobox. The gray beagle scanned it for a few seconds before gasping lightly.

"Ah, Lewis! I'm sorry!" Skye exclaimed.

Lewis wiped his nose on his yellow hoodie sleeve. "It's okay," he said hoarsely. Though, inside, Lewis wasn't sure if he could ever be okay again.

Several hours passed of Lewis wallowing in the misery of knowing his role model was dead. His essay in reading was half incomprehensible scribbles and half facts about the show's production. Finally, the final bell rang and Lewis leaned against the wall of the music room. Skye stood beside him.

"I feel so bad, Skye," he whimpered, crossing his arms.

"I know," Skye answered, "I can't imagine what I'd feel like if Stringer or Tubby died."

Lewis flashed a glance at her. "Stringer and Tubby are your uncles," he stated, "You'd be upset anyway."

"Yeah, you're right."

Lewis tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for Wilbur. He played clarinet and looked significantly more like the rest of the Purebred line.

The Purebreds weren't really purebred dogs; but even so, Lewis certainly was the odd one out. Lewis usually liked looking so much like Underdog, but now that he knew Underdog was dead, he hated it. He shook and clenched his eyes tightly shut.

The heavy band door squealed open. A poodle clad in a blue sweater stepped out.

"Hi Lewis, Skye," he greeted. Then his eyes widened. "Lewis, you look awful! What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Lewis lied, "I just wanna go home."

The three of them padded through the empty hallway and out the back door of the school, where the car riders waited. They didn't wait with the other car riders though. Instead, Wilbur lead Lewis and Skye to the front of the school. There, a short, cream-furred woman stood. She had curly red ears and hair, along with a muzzle a bit squished in.

Pinky Knees was Lewis and Wilbur's grandmother. Both of them referred to her as Nonna, while Skye usually called her Ms. Pinky.

"Hey kids!" she called.

The three children greeted her affectionately, but Lewis still couldn't force a note of sorrow out of his voice. Nonna didn't comment on his appearance, though, instead she patted her thigh and insisted they hurry up, already! in her jokey little way.

The pekingese led the little kennel back to their apartment building. All three of them lived there, just on different floors, and their parents got off work at different times. Both Wilbur and Skye's parents got off at four o'clock. Mom got off at six.

On most days, Lewis didn't really mind this. Nonna had a key to their apartment if Lewis ever wanted anything from inside there. Today, however, Lewis had several angry questions for his mother.

When Mom eventually picked Lewis up, he found himself soon sobbing into her arms harder with every question she answered for him. Lewis even felt a few of his mother's own tears drip into his hair. It just made him even more saddened to know that Polly was just as upset, if not more, with Underdog's death as he was.

Lewis wept until he cried himself to exhaustion. His tears ran out, and his Mom's arms were just… so warm.

"I l-love you, Mom," he stuttered.

Mom gulped thickly. She forced a smile and rubbed a knuckle into Lewis' hair. "Love you too, kid."

One of Mom's thumbs wiped away the tear streaks on Lewis' cheeks before she whipped away her own.

"...I love you so, so much, Lewis. Don't you ever forget that."