I picked up The Lives of the Monster Dogs at the library one weekend strictly on its cover; a beautiful Siberian Husky/Malamute-type dog in a smoking jacket. The blurb on the back was intriguing; dogs that walk upright on their hind legs, have prosthetic-yet-working human hands and voice boxes, land in New York City.
You'd think they'd have all kinds of zany adventures; wrong-o! Turns out these are Monster Dogs, that's the name they accept for themselves, and they set up housekeeping in NYC. Of course, they're all still stuck in the 1800s (there's a long, semi-pointless back story that vaguely involves Kaiser Wilhelm that explains this) and are all wearing bustled dresses and Prussian uniforms, but that's okay because it's New York City and that's where the Freak Flag flies. At least, that's their rationale for landing in NYC.
Talking dogs, Victorian clothes, and laser guns (yes, laser guns). What could go wrong?
