Sparky

            Sparky plodded around the family home, thinking to himself.  Everyone else was away doing whatever it was that occupied the rest of his or her day.  He wasn’t sure if he was happy or distressed that he was the only one left alone in the house.  He was the only one that didn’t walk around on his back legs, and it seemed like this building hadn’t been built with canine operations in mind.  No matter, though.  He couldn’t remember the last time their abode had been invaded.  He could have justified relaxing, if that wasn’t exactly what an enemy might have wanted.

            Still, as he looked through the skylight in the billiards room, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of nostalgia for his old home, his friends, his old life.  The plushness of the oddly tasteful green carpet (and they thought he was color blind, pah) clashed sadly with the hollow, lonely feeling in his soul.  He flopped on his back, rubbing himself all over the carpet between one of the game tables and a bar stool, but that didn’t make him feel any better.

            How had it come to be that he had been marooned on this planet ruled by bipods?  There had been some sort of mix up in the commission report. He wasn’t trained for these observe-and-report type missions. He hadn’t even been given any equipment.  They just dropped him off on the corner of Vickers St and Oak Blvd, and took off, hoping for the best. But that had been years ago, and they had all been so young back then.  To think any of them actually had a good grip on the world was almost laughable.

            Still, all he had now was a faux family adopted under false pretenses.  They couldn’t know that he was not a native to their world. That would only complicate matters.  So, he sighed and licked his ass with quiet resolve.  He would keep up this lie as long as he had to, and never lose hope that his friends would come back for him.