The One and Only Bob

by Katherine Applegate

Look, nobody’s ever accused me of being a good dog.

First sentence.

The way I understand things, it’s like this. We live on a lonely ball called Earth, and humans have basically been throwing it against the wall for so long that the poor ol’ ball is falling apart.

There are so many ways the world can find to fail you.

It’s as if the air is up to no good, sneaking up on the world and looking for trouble.

We analyze the air the way humans read poetry, searching for invisible truths.

Humans love it when we get silly. I think they’re so weighed down by people problems that sometimes they need to be reminded what happy looks like.

I looked at him and, for the first time, wondered if I really did have any wolf in me. He was a majestic animal, with teeth that could shred a tree trunk. I am also majestic. But more portable. With teeth that could mangle a pencil with enough time and effort.

“All I know is, I’ve done lots of bad stuff in my life, Bob. I’ve had to forgive myself plenty, just, you know, to get through the day.” Boss gazes at me with her wise, weary eyes. “And I figure if I’m going to forgive myself, I’d better be ready to cut everyone else some slack, too.”