001Chapter five. The boss. Unfortunately, a lot of the folks who visited Dogtown 2.0 went home with robot dogs. All the excuses they had. They were clean freaks. They were cat people. They were allergic. They didn't like dogs who pooped. That's when the hostility between us real dogs, the flesh and bloods, and the metal dogs began. But Dogtown 2.0 created so much foot traffic that real dog adoptions increased, too. At least that's what management said. And she's the boss, right? Chapter six. Plug in pooches. Most of the robot dogs at Dog Town were known by their breed names. E dog, I dog, Ibo, Robo, Rover, or Pup 1000. But those aren't real dog breeds like Pugs and Pointers and Pices. Nothing real about a metal dog. They'd be laughed out of the ring at a dog
002show. They're brands. That's it. Besides that, lots of them are in bad shape by the time they get to Dog Town. Tails broken, wires poking out, chargers missing. Nothing sadder than a plug-in pooch who can't wag his own tail. He'd go straight to the e-waist heap. Even in her finest hour, no E dog has a heart. They don't have the first idea of what it feels like to carry one around in your chest. The weight of it, you know. Chapter seven. Metal head. Robot dogs are expensive, so they generally aren't donated to Dog Town until something stops working. A busted motor, a frozen screen, bugs in the software, that kind of thing. But Metalhead didn't look damaged. He looked strange, like he'd been put together by a mad scientist. There was something off about his
003whole backside, as if another dog's rear end was attached to his front end. And he had this flashing going on that drove us all crazy. Blue flash. Blue flash, blue flash all night long. Just looking at him gave me a headache. It wasn't like he was well trained either. When a human says, "Doggy, come." A metal hound doesn't stop to pee on the way. They're obedient 100% of the time. But metal head didn't do anything he was told to do. We didn't know if he was flatout disobedient or he just didn't care. Either way, something inside of him was broken. We figured he'd be sent to e-waste right away. Chapter 8. First cage. We were wrong. Management didn't stick metal head in e-waste. She put him in first cage. The first pin adopting families see
004when they come to Dog Town. The first pup they lay eyes on melts their hearts and gets adopted right away. None of us was happy that a hunk of steel with a personality of a paperweight had been given that premier piece of real estate. Geraldine of St. Bernard was really ticked. Look at them in their front pages. Oh my goodness, that first cage. They're all upset. She got sent into Dog Town because how do I put this delicately? Her piles were too large. I don't understand. Humans doesn't seem that difficult to figure out. Big dog, big. Anywh who, Geraldine wouldn't stop barking about Metalhead getting first cage. What am I, kibbled dust? All I'm asking for is a little respect, people, she barked. But the humans didn't understand a word, she said. Trying to bridge
005the human and dog divide is a game of charades. We understand them. They don't understand us. We joined Geraldine in her big bark the way we always do. But it did no good. Meet was going to blink blue in his first cage until management moved him. There was nothing we could do about it. Chapter nine. Boohoo. If that wasn't bad enough, Metal Head was a Boohoo. Plenty of flesh and blood dogs are boohoos. Dog Town is a shelter. After all, dogs end up in Dogtown because they're lost or abandoned. They come to us because they bit the mail carrier or they dug up the peonyies, the poppies, and the pansies. Or, and this is a really big no no, they ate their human cell phone. You wouldn't believe the talented dogs that are dumped because
006of bone chewing. It's a crying shame. Real dogs aren't happy when they arrive. They whine. They whimper. They hide their heads and refuse to eat. They're hopeful there's a sign stapled to a telephone pole somewhere that says missing dog with their picture on it. Might even offer a reward. If only they could escape. If only they could go home. If only their humans knew where they were. I couldn't blame them. Who didn't miss home? Cats to chase, kids to race, and a bowl with your name on it. But in the end, real dogs are resilient. We get over our heartbreak most of the time. I wasn't so sure about E dogs. Metalhead was the first one I ever saw who was a Boohoo. Looking back now, I see that was a sign, but at the
007time, I just figured the guy must have had a power outage at an important stage in his development. Chapter 10. The manual. Most robot dogs had their instructions built into the circuit. But Metalhead was old school. He came with a manual and he was always looking up one thing or another. Never seemed to be satisfied by what he found. It was like he was looking for something that wasn't there. He didn't care that he was in first cage. He paid no attention to the families who walked by. The cutest little girl with dimples, a missing front tooth, and a bag of dog toys bigger than she was, stopped smack in front of him. She was jumping up and down, her curly hair springing and sponging. "Here, doggy," she said, offering him one toy after another.
008Metalhead didn't even look up. "Next came twin boys with matching outfits." "Doggy, let us pet you, please," they said. Then they started doing their routines. Mambos, moonwalks, macaranas. Imagine humans doing tricks for dogs. Metalhead didn't notice. I assumed he was out of charge until I saw his blue light flashing. Sit, shake, roll over, the human kids called out. They were especially adorable that day. These were families any dog would have been proud to call their