The sky was perfectly clear as Fred walked

The sky was perfectly clear as Fred walked down the sidewalk. His short, brown hair was perfect. Suddenly, he saw a stray dog.

It had a scruffy mohawk with a disheveled, frankly my dear don't give a damn look & was being followed by three bitches. Suddenly Fred realized he had it all wrong.His perfect hair

did not matter. All those trips to the doggy salon were wasted. To get the bitches, it was all about self-confidence and style to match, not some overpriced perm at the hands of

a middle-aged woman named Peggie who thought I would "get along so well with her other dogs." Screw her, I was going to become the coolest dog on the block, starting with

the block on the corner of 101st and Melville Ave. I was the coolest dog on that block for sure except I was the ONLY dog on that block.

The cats were scared of me, mostly. I shared a human with a cat, we got along swimmingly. This was not unusual, but my human was a seismologist who knew when earthquakes were

proper earthquakes, not the dumb hipster earthquakes you get these days. Conveniently, my human also had a time machine, so he took me and the cat to

Paris, 1927, where we danced wild and free to the wildest swing music you ever heard. It was all emotion, throwing ourselves into the passion of the dance while the cat

observed like a spy. While the heated dancing continued, the cat watched with malicious intent.