I know now I am a mutant. Something totally new in naked mole rats. First, my eyes were open when I was born. This gave me a great advantage over my sibs. While they searched blindly for nourishment, I was able to zero in on the food. Of course, this caused my mother to name me "Bottomless pit who bites". Did I forget to mention that I had my teeth at birth also?
My tale really begins, however, the day I was plucked from my warm nest and presented to what, in my horrified eyes, looked like a forest of teeth. If I hadn't been so sleepy from my snack of all the food pellets, I would have fought, which would have been the mistake of my life. The expanse of ivory did not belong to a predator who had just found a new snack, but to my new pet, Ron Stoppable.
My pet/friend and I have had many adventures over the years, beginning with the one the day after we met. For some reason, my pet wanted me to destroy a lock, something well within the capabilities of my small frame and nimble claws. Of course, my new pet's companion, who I later grew to think of as a second, not as well trained, pet, congratulated me by calling me "gross", and refusing to hold me. Never the less, that was the beginning of our team.
Over the years, the team went on many missions. Starting small and working our way to the villains of note. We would find the miscreants, my pets would be captured, I would rescue them, and then they would finally finish the task. It became almost routine. Of course, part of the reason I worked so well in the later missions is because I was frightened almost senseless in the earlier ones. Villains? Piece of cheese. But a vicious, hungry tabby? Now that is terrifying. And the babysitting, don't let's forget the babysitting. Careless little monsters who kept trying to peal me. But, as in all things, I learned to cope. The four legged appetites went on diets as my oversize teeth and powerful, sharp digging talons matured. I realized that the baby's were just curious, and learned to either stay out of reach, or make friends.
But the dogs...did I mention dogs? Some were vicious, but most were either friendly or uninterested. Too lazy to notice, if you ask me. One, however, Mops, was two hundred plus pounds of unbridled affection covered in long hair. An English sheep dog who decided in the recess's of what he called his mind, that I was the most fascinating toy he had ever seen. The only thing that saved me was my ability to hide in the hair that covered him from eyes to tail. The time I mistook his tail for his head...we won't discuss that.
So life went on for the first few years. Missions would occur, we would do our thing, and then repair to that haven of blessedness, that house of cheese wonder, Bueno Nacho. I was certain that life could get no better. Good, obedient, loyal pets; plentiful cheese; and video games for recreation. The world was my oyster, and the shell remained open.
Then, one remembered day, my illusion of contentment was shattered by of all things, the television. My pet's sire finally agreed to...cable.
AN: This is not finished by any means, but seemed like a good place to stop the introduction. Next up, what did Rufus really do while in the world of the cable shows. More than the show told us. (G)