Crash!

The vessel was swept about for days and days, the kelp forest tugging and pulling the boat along with the currents.  The crew had the worst case of sea sickness you could imagine. They had given up trying to maintain control of the boat and they drifted haplessly at the whim of the sea. The Jenni Dog captain was gacking over the side of the boat (yes they are both breathing under water and sailing on top of the water at the same time—IT'S JUST A STORY) when she was thrown overboard by a violent crash.

The captain awoke to find herself and the boat crumpled on a rocky shore. She shook the water from her fur and trotted over to the boat. Most of the crew survived, but there was another Jenni Dog she didn't recognize. A stowaway? On her ship? Well, she couldn't worry about that at the moment. "Surviving this situation is tantamount!"

She assembled a reconnaissance party while the other Jenni Dogs worked to repair the tears in the ship with lots of Scotch tape. The pack climbed over rocks and enormous slabs of broken concrete. It quickly became apparent that they were not the first dogs to set foot on this land. As they climbed the rubble, evidence of the island's previous inhabitants emerged. Rusty pieces of electronics mingled with broken bits of sculpture and pottery. It seemed oddly familiar, though they had never been here before. At the crest of a mound of rocks they were stopped by an awe inspiring and frightening sight—the largest dog they had ever seen. The beast towered over them like a sphinx, neither moving nor making a sound.