[A young boy by the street] seemed to be waiting for me to move forward. Weren't we all. When it became clear this was not going to happen, he yelled out to me,
I have a dog.
I nodded. What's his name?
The boy looked sad for a moment and I realized he did not actually have a dog. I felt honored to be chosen as the person who believed he had a dog. I was the right woman for this job; he had chosen well to chose me. Finally he yelled out, Paul!, and I dutifully imagined Paul: running with the boy. loving the boy, the boy feeding Paul.
Do you have a dog? Paul's owner asked, walking toward me...He...did not judge me.
Do you have any pets, he asked.
No.
Not even a cat?
No.
Why not?
I'm not sure I could care for a pet. I travel a lot.
But you could get a very little pet, that wasn't very hungry.
...I didn't want any more weaklings....If I was going to bring something new into my house, it would be a big starving thing. But I could not do this. I didn't tell the boy, because I was just his dog believer...
This excerpt is from No One Belongs Here More Than You
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