Dell's Journey

Chapter 3: Pet

Pet is a decent listener. One time when Dell was

trying to explain what he called his "human need for

accomplishment," he suddenly realized Pet had left the room

and gone to sleep on his little pillow. A human doing this

would be considered insensitive, but for an animal it's

pretty normal. Pet doesn't really comprehend what speech

is, you know.

Whether by any intention of kindness, or rather by

some deeply instinctual, yet unfathomable connection with

his companion, Pet was bound to Dell. He is loyal.

Pet is also impulsive. When he sees something edible

or crushable that he wants, he lunges at it with an open

mouth, drooling with expectation. When he notices a

willing dispenser of affection, he doesn't stop to examine

the roots of his desires or the appropriateness of

demonstrating them. He moves his hairy body in the

direction of love. Maybe Pet is just honest. Or maybe

he's just not ashamed of himself all the time.

Thoughts had begun to take shape in Dell's mind as day

by day he observed Pet's insatiable curiosity, his

fearlessness, his willingness to yield to adventure. Pet

seemed to forget danger, security, and comfort when he

became engrossed in something.

In one instance, Pet had chased birds in the yard for

hours, never catching one, yet never seeming to tire, even

while spraying beads of sweat like a sprinkler. Dell had

grown weary of the spectacle after a few minutes. But his

interest grew exponentially when he saw nothing of Pet for

two days and nights after that. The little dish of food

beside the refrigerator and the water-bowl remained

untouched, and Dell became increasingly unsettled. The

night Pet returned, it was after 2 a.m. The familiar

scratching came at the kitchen door, and Dell opened it to

a mangy, smelly, and utterly victorious Pet. He was

shaking with joyful excitement, clutching the tattered

remains of a robin between his teeth.