Good Evening, Everybun!
Something magical happens every time Charlie comes over to visit. With her and my hoomin, you have these three strange characters getting along. We may as well be aliens from a sci-fi, we may as well be living on Mars for there's nothing left from the worlds we grew up in.
Charlie survived a breeder. Before meeting our hoomin, she got dumped at a lady who rescues cats and dogs. That's where she learned to rule over a bunch of strange beasts. I lived in a pound, mostly by myself. That's where I learned my exquisite bedside manners and honed my social skills - nip onto others before they nip onto you. Poor Gus, we know so little of his story. We found him drifting in the Sea of Front Yard. Who cares what happened to that hatch!? Did it blow by itself? Did Gus open it? Did he chew through it, or did his hoomins forget to lock it? Gus got out, and he's here. He's not going back, and that's all that matters. My hoomin is once-discarded too. We're a bunch of rescues.
One time, my hoomin looked at me and wondered, what's the point of searching for extraterrestrials? There's plenty of exotic life right here. I may as well be a little green bun from a distant galaxy.
My hoomin will never ever get to experience my existence the way I do. Yet our worlds overlap. He makes those "dur, dur, dur" noises all the time, but there's no need for them. We still communicate the essentials of love, safety, and care. Sniff, scratch, and touch cover a lot of ground. They cover what we need without the clutter.
Charlie and I loaf nose to nose; a hoomin paw massages the tops of our heads and ears; we grit our teeth.
Good Night, and Good Luck,