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That night, I lay in the bed in my hotel room, twisting and turning Wizard’s harness.
Wizard lay at the end of the bed and let out a series of strange yelps.
I put the harness down and reached down to stroke him. His legs kicked as he slept and he let out another yelp. Could dogs dream?
I sat back up and grinned—the prospect of dogs being able to dream had never occurred to me before. What were his dreams like? Was he chasing a rabbit, or cocking his leg against the world’s greatest lamppost?
Until that moment, I’d only considered Wizard to be like a tool to get around. But he was sentient. He had an internal life—he dreamed.
What did dogs think about? Do they have doubts and desires?
He seemed to enjoy working. Did he find meaning in that?
I shook away the thoughts and picked up my phone. “Call Rebecca.”
She answered after two rings. “Hey, dummy.”
“Hey.”
“How was your day?”
“Fine, I guess.”
“You don’t sound fine.”
“I’ve just had a tough day with training, that’s all.”
“Don’t worry. You can go back to stick and click. Dogs just make you reliant.”
“I don’t know. Mum said something that stuck with me.”
“Is this where you tell me you’re going to carry on and defy the odds?”
“Yeah. Something like that.”
She took in a deep breath.
“What is it?”
“I didn’t want to say this, but I’m allergic to dogs.”
“You never said that before.”
“I’m sure I did.”
“You must see dogs all the time at Mandela House. I don’t get why you’re being so negative on them.”
“Are you accusing me of lying?”
“No. I...I don’t know. You just seem really down on me getting a dog.”
“Because you don’t need one. You can get around better with what I taught you.”
I sucked in my bottom lip as realisation set in.
“Brian? You still there?”
“Yeah. You don’t want me to get a dog because you think that somehow that makes you a bad teacher.”
A long pause hung between us. “I need to go.”
“Wait—”
“Bye.” She ended the call.
I let out a sigh and connected to the Wi-Fi.