By the time she was thirty, Eleanor Smiths record was a fevered affair with George, a dull chronicle with Charles, and three fleeting, equally pointless sketches with Stanley, Maxwell and Mick. And there was Sid, merely a scribble on the shelters noticeboard. She never got around to rereading them.
Eleanor sighed, thought It isnt meant to be, and walked away from the literary world. She signed up for a knitting course and set off for the animal shelter to fetch a faithful companion.
Dont know which one? the clerk asked, eyes halfclosed. Take a look, youll know straight away if its yours or not. Eleanor drifted past every pen and enclosure; her heart never skipped a beat.
Is anyone left? Whats behind that box? she asked.
Thats our Lucy. You wont take her anyway. Lucy, come here! Dont be frightened! From behind the crate emerged Lucy, a mottled greybrown beast with a hunch, a snarling muzzle, and a horrorlike gait that was more nightmare than dog. She glanced at Eleanor and, lacking a tail, gave a tentative wiggle of her hindquarters.
Lucys sweet, but you seeshes been taken before, returned two days later, told it was shameful to go out on the street, that no one wants a dog like her. Poor thing. Eleanor thought, Just like me, and answered, Come on, Lucy, well sing together! Do we have to pay anything?
A neighbour shrieked, Oh! Whos that? From the shelter? Were there any human dogs in there? A boy from the flat above piped up, Aunt Emma, is she laughing? I watched a film where they do, and Mom, lets get a hyena too!
Life fell into a strange, orderly rhythm. In the mornings Eleanor walked Lucy to work; in the evenings they lingered in the dusk. The shelters warning proved wrongLucy turned out to be unusually gentle and wellbehaved, though she guarded Eleanor fiercely, growling at any stranger who dared approach.
When Sid tried to mend a broken relationship, his trousers tore and he nearly gnawed his own leg. You fool, Eleanor, he howled, and your dogs a fool tooboth of you are mad!
At the knitting class the instructor declared, Youve learned a great deal. In a month I expect a finished pieceanything you like. If youre short on time, a little dolls dress will do. At the final session well all judge each others work, and the creator should present it themselves.
Eleanor first aimed to please herself, but the result was a grotesque jumble. She then resolved to knit a tiny sweater for Lucy, as autumn crept in and the air grew crisp.
Alright then, the teacher said, averting her gaze from Lucy, I see youve put in effort.
Lucy, now draped in a pink cardigan, became the neighbourhoods little star; passersby stopped and stared, an old lady even crossed herself. Eleanor didnt mind the gawkingLucy stayed warm, snug in a violet knit.
One evening Eleanor fetched food, tethered Lucy by the gate, and stepped back inside. A man lingered, eyeing Lucy with curious interest.
Excuse me, what breed is this? he asked.
Its a dog, thank you! If you dont like it, look elsewhere, Eleanor barked. You care only about looks and not about the soul of a creature, human or beast.
The man smiled, Youre the one complaining about looks, but I like the dog. Shall we be friends? He reached out to pat Lucy.
Careful! Shell bite! She doesnt like strangers! Eleanor warned.
Instead of snapping, Lucy nudged his hand with her head and gave a soft purrlike growl.
A good dog, the man chuckled. Now lets be pals with the owner too.
Literature never truly left Eleanor. The fifth year rolled on, and the fifth volume was still being penned, its pages as elusive as the dreamtangled streets she walked with Lucy.
