He's black, about so high, and answers to the name "Woofie."
I finally finished the new Advanced High Performance Dog-Bot kit, after *weeks* of work. Knitting together the central processing nets, wrapping wire coils for electro-stimulated fluid pumps, gluing on 532,976 hairs in precisely the pattern that best deflects energy blasts... the new Woofie was a lot of work! Still, the work was done; all that was left was to test him out.
I chose a quiet spot near Lush Hills Resort. Nothing large enough to be threatening was nearby; I wanted to be sure of Woofie's basic responses before trying him in combat. Tool set down the crate, I levered it open, and Woofie took his first few steps on the fresh green grass. "Woofie, sit!" I commanded, and he sat. "Stay!", and he stayed. "Roll over!", and he practically backflipped in the air.
I picked up a stick, and tossed it a little ways south. "Fetch!"
Woofie stood, looked at the stick for a moment, and started running at high speed. To the NORTH. "Woofie, wait! Come back! WOOFIE!" He was a black streak zooming along the grass, headed the wrong way. In only a few seconds, he was out of hearing.
I got in my yalm, and flew after him. It was pretty easy to follow the trail by the torn-up grass and the occasional knocked-over sapling. North, and a bit west.
I lost track of Woofie for a time at the southern border of 4 Holes; anti-aircraft fire makes it a bit tricky to fly over that area anymore. However, I did manage to get a camera image of him from the outpost in southern Stret West; he'd gotten ahold of some Unionist's leg. Too bad it wasn't slowing him down.
I've been asking around. Deb Moore (aka "Dmom") in Borealis thought she'd seen the local animal control people chasing a dog like Woofie, but the animal control office didn't have anything useful to say-- they were busy, one of their vans had blown up or something.
So, if anybody's seen my dog, could you please contact me?