Look at the people, hear the noise! All the funny people in their big colors and head-fur that ring the bell of the entrance, all of them coming and going and talking and making noise. I see them all the time; they walk past the barrier and sometimes they rap at it, looking at me and my rowdy siblings. My brothers and sisters don't like the clear wall, but I am not afraid. I am an adventurer: I yip at the silly bald-faced two-legs that make the unintelligible noise and wear the bright colors. The Hand comes down and always picks and replaces my siblings, showing them to the colorful people. I do not like the Hand. The Hand is cold, and I am warm and furred.
The colors and lights come and go, and I monitor the clear wall to watch the people move. My siblings have not come back. There is just me and my sister now, and she stays in the corner. She is afraid of the clear wall. She is not brave like me, for I am an adventurer.
The Hand takes my sister away, and now I am alone. I bark at the funny people in their bundled colors, watching toys get wrapped in colorful sheets with bows and ribbons thrown on.
I see the people come and go, and then the lights go off; it is dark. The night is long, and I am alone. But I am brave. They may not like my face with the mismatched eyes and the missing ear, but I am strong.
The Hand comes for me, setting me on a cold metal table in a back room. It keeps me still while people in blank colors mess with needles. They make little noise. But I am brave, I am not afraid.
I am an adventurer.