"I've been hunted by dog-catchers all my life. I'm not easy to trap. I've only got three captures on my record where I actually got sent to the pound, I mean, and the first two times, I escaped within 24 hours, but the third time... I got adopted before I could finish digging the break-out-tunnel. It was a big family. Five kids, two other dogs, already. They stuck me in the back of a station-wagon and drove me out to the middle of the sticks. Grass, trees, swimming pool, cartoons on TV. Anyway, one morning a week later, the youngest boy, his name was Toshiro, woke me up at 6:15, bright-eyed, wide-awake, and he tried to pet me. He didn't mean anything by it. He was just being friendly. Apparently, I bit him so hard, I nearly chewed his hand off. Blood all over the kitchen floor. They rushed him to the emergency room and I got pad-locked out in the tool-shed with the lights out. It gave me some time to think. What happened? Why did I do that? To this day, I have no idea. I guess he scared me. I bite. That night, an old woman, she must've been the grandmother brought me out a bowl of some homemade hibachi-chili. I like to think she cooked it for me, personally, but who knows? Maybe it was just more leftovers. But... You've got a tick. [takes off the tick off Rex's nose and spits onto the golf hole] Anyway, that's my favorite food I ever ate. The old woman made a great bowl of chili. [Rex: What happened after that?] I dug my way out by morning, jumped on the back of a dump-truck, and hitched back to Megasaki. I was always a street-dog, let's face it."