| [it's a bitterly cold day in the middle of december when the mistress of the house drives him out to a local shelter and tells him, quite bluntly, to get out of the car. he's confused. he tries to express himself without words, at first, but when she says, "well? go on," he responds to her, quietly.
"what do you want me to do?" he asks.
she rolls her eyes, impatient. she checks the clock. it's 2:34, and she's anxious, francel knows, because the children need to be picked up from school at 3:00. "listen," she says, "i'm sorry, but there's no place for you in our home anymore. i mean, there's no room. do you know how much taller you've gotten? and how much more you eat?"
she isn't an unkind woman — at least, francel thinks so — but she gets like this sometimes, when she's upset with her husband, and she winds up taking it out on the family pet instead. "look, you're a smart kiddo," she says. "you read. honestly, i'm pretty sure that makes you smarter than my kids. but look, you're more than we can handle right now, and we didn't think this would happen to you for another two or three years. the breeder probably lied to us about your age. but you can't stay with us."] |
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