It seemed to be a fine day on the zoo, as most zoos are, but what was to come would change everything. Just as any day, the frogs were croaking, the lions were snitching, and the anteaters were plotting. That blue thing was still on vacation in the year 1911. But this tallest of tales isn’t about him. It is about the darkness within our boy Crim the dog.

His great grandsire Xarok the wolf always knew Crimothy was a punk and a scrub, and tried to teach him to be otherwise most of his short, stupid life. But Crim wasn’t receptive. No matter how many beatings he received or how many times he was locked in the giant daddy longlegs-infested armory, he still came out just as scrubby (if not scrubbier) than before. But today, Xarok learned something he had suspected lied dormant in Crim for all these years.

It was to be a normal visit to Crim’s disgusting abode; as usual Xarok would tell Crim that it was long overdue that he became a man. He would command him to leave the zoo, home of the weak and dishonorable, and join Xarok on his ship, the Desolator. Together as great grandfather and great grandson they would sail the seven seas murdering and pillaging whomever they pleased, and perhaps take a trip down to the underworld to see how the damned were doing. Crim would inevitably refuse, which would earn him a severe beating, and Xarok would leave him alone for a few weeks to think about what he'd done.

Instead, however, Xarok stumbled upon the terrible truth. You see, Xarok had thought the gay gene long since purged from his noble bloodline. In a thousand years not a single pup in his extended family was born with so much as a limp wrist. But as Xarok strode up to Crim’s doorway, he saw something that would be burned into his mind for centuries to come.

“Who let the dogs out? WHO, WHO, WHO-WHO,” agonizingly met Xarok’s keen ears as he gazed upon a true abomination the likes of which he had never thought possible. Crim was wearing homemade ears, tails and paws of a cursed being Xarok had only heard whispered stories about: a catgirl. Xarok could hardly believe his glowing eyes. Not only did Crim already possess ears, paws and a tail, but he was intentionally dressed as the archenemy. Waving their flag, no less, as Xarok recognized the forbidden rainbow paw emblem of the furry. Xarok drew his axes: they would taste tainted blood this day.

“Who let the dogs-“ Crim began again, but paused as a long, low growl emanated from behind him. He turned, grinning like a moron because he was one. He recognized Xarok’s menacing silhouette, but seemed to barely take heed that the ancient wolf’s eyes were glowing much brighter than usual. “Konnichiwa, Xarok-San!” He waved. Xarok, his glare unflinching, made no motion but his growl increased in volume. “Uh, what’s up, ‘Gramps’?” he spoke stupidly, still smiling as if his life weren’t about to come to an abrupt and bloody end.

None survived that day.

(Fun fact: Crim is definitely not a dachshund no matter what he tries to tell you. That wouldn't even make any sense.)