Hi, Bartholomew Branford reporting back to anyone who can read my mind.

It's been around eight months, and I'm beginning to think that I'm not a normal dog, or my parents for that matter.

And you will wonder; Why do you think that, Bartolomé Branford?

and I would answer you; woff woff grrr wooof.

A little funny if you can't understand me, but getting back to the point.

Eight months have passed and my little body has not changed much, well, not beyond that now I am able to get up on all four, that I now have relatively new teeth, and that my mother and father's barking sounds less and less every morning, Like, well, barking, and more like words.

I still have the body of a relatively dwarf puppy at eight months old, which as far as I know, that would be the equivalent of nine canine years.

Hmm ...

This is a bit worrisome, I haven't seen any human since I came into the world, strange thing because currently, my bed, and my parents', is in a closet full of clothes.

one would think that at some point the human owners of these clothes would open the wardrobe where I sleep and take some random garment, to work, go to eat, play badminton, or simply follow my example of my days as a human, and keep all your Clean clothes as soon as you touch the confinesfrom your home, which translates to undressing as soon as you get home, rush to their respective basements before their respective mothers or fathers arrive and order them to lock themselves in the basement so that they will have visitors, and they don't want to having to re-chain them to thewater heater.

I miss that basement

And my things

Well, it's still strange that I haven't encountered any humans.

All I have come across are; my mother, my father, and from what at the moment I can only find two theories,

1: They are my brothers, who came constantly when my mother retired.

2: they are strange experiments, of some oddball that was dedicated to cloning dogs to exhaustion.

i prayed that it was not two o'clock, God knows that my self-esteem is already very low, I do not need, nor do I want you to tell me that I am part of an experiment dedicated to cloning older dogs.

so, i just gonna call them brothers for now.

My brothers seem to be afraid of me. Although it is unknown to me that it could have triggered that fear, I mean, I am just a little puppy who enjoys seeing his two older brothers hitting each other with a rubber chicken.

My brothers are sooo strange.

I mean, not that I'm an expert on families, all my knowledge of normal families is usually still a jumble of random thoughts, which my little brain is currently trying to assemble, adapt, and translate into the life of a dog.

For all I know, at some point in the future of my dog life, I will have to challenge my father in an epic lightsaber duel inside a space station that is about to destroy the world, all while my older brother is also on a crusade to eliminate allmembers of our family, because that somehow avoided a civil war.

Now my head hurts, yay.

"I'm telling you Dolly, Dewey is not normal"

Oh, I have company!

"Dylan, you're overthinking this too much," Dolly said, dismissing Dylan's concerns.

Are they talking about mua?

"Dewey is no different than Dorothy, she also used to cry a lot when Mom was not around"

Dorothy? Who is this Dorothy, is my rival? I should insist on crying harder so they don't compare me to this Dorothy.

"I don't mean that Dolly, last night I found him flexing his paws in front of his muzzle ... with fear"

Hey! It wasn't fear, I was just surprised to learn that we had two pairs of thumbs.

"Dylan, maybe he was just curious, I mean, I'm pretty sure we all did that some time"

"Dolly, he vomited from seeing his own paws"

Guilty, after the initial shock of discovering that my paws have thumbs, I was incredibly disgusted to think that i was a dog with some kind of deformity.

"Yes Dylan, it is very difficult for me to forget that night, Dewey cried all that night"

I only calmed down a little when our father arrived, I noticed that he also had thumbs, and I began to take note, that in fact, many of my brothers' front paws had thumbs.

"But remember what mom told us, bro, Dewey is special"

Excuse me but ...

... What did she just call me?

"I know, I know Dolly, but even you must admit that something strange is happening with Dewey"

¡Who cares!

¡I need context!

¡Context!

¿¡ Why am I special !?

"Well, I'll give you that bro, Dorothy was also a unique birth too, but even she didn't get as attached to mom as Dewey does."

¡Oh no!

They used the word:

unique!

Now I am especial and unique.

That can only translate into one thing:

a feminist of the third wave.

Unlocked mode:

Supersayajin Phase 3!

(Change of point of view)

"Nnnoooooooooooo!" a scream was heard coming from the closet.

The yell, greatly frightened two dogs who were patiently standing guard outside the closet.

Dolly Dalmata, casual flirt, parkour lover, likes to skate, and currently has a crush on a certain blue-eyed husky.

Dylan Dalmata, Dog who likes astrology, wants to visit space, an experienced role player, inventive dog, and housewife.

both Dolly and Dylan hugged each other, upon hearing the scream coming from the closet where the youngest of his brothers resides, where it was previously theorized it was sleeping.

"Dolly?"

"Yes, Dylan?"

"did Dewey, just ..., speak?"

(Prologue 2)