I returned home from shopping to find some sleeping mutation of a pug dog with two lavender lace size C humps growing from either side of his little torso. He could have been killed or even suffocated. He approached me eagerly as though he had always been a mutant sharing my home. Cecil, you could have died! You might have been strangled! He sat there smiling the smile a mutant gives one when being ingratiating. How can I leave you alone when you’re not of this world, Cecil? I asked as I released him from my bra. Cecil, look at me. How long have you been a freak of nature today? He never let on. He just wagged the tail of a pug dog as if he was one.