"My story begins in London, not so very long ago, and yet so much has happened since then, that it seems like an eternity. At that time, I lived with my pet in a bachelor flat just off of Regent's Park. It was a beautiful spring day, a tedious time of the year for bachelors. Oh, that's my pet, Roger Radcliffe, a musician of sorts. I'm the one with the spots. My name's Pongo. As far as I could see, the old notion that a bachelor's life was so glamorous and carefree was all nonsense. It was downright dull. It was plain to see that my old pet needed someone. But if it were left up to Roger, we'd be bachelors forever. He was married to his work, writing songs. Songs about romance of all things, something he knew absolutely nothing about. Oh, he's intelligent enough, as humans go. And I think you could say, Roger is a rather handsome animal in his way. I could see no reason why my pet didn't deserve an attractive mate. At least I was determined to do my best. Of course, dogs are a pretty poor judge of human beauty. But I had a rough idea of what to look for."