He waddled up to us like…well, like a giant magic hedgehog I guess, and it was clear that he was happy to see us. We knelt down and hugged him gently, after which Rusty started explaining to Harvey how he shouldn’t worry us like that. How we had been looking for him all day and we ought to be mad at him, but he forgave him.

Something stirred in the back of my head at that, though at the time I didn’t recognize it for what it was. It was growing dark again, so we reluctantly said good-bye, though this time Rusty told Harvey to follow us close to the house so he would know where we lived and could meet up with us more easily next time. That we would be back at the edge of the trees near the house the next morning. Again, a slight tickle in the back of my head that made my stomach uneasy, but I tried to ignore it as I waved bye to Harvey and followed Rusty back to the house.

The next few days were fun and exciting, and in many ways it was like we were living in some kind of fairy tale. We would get up early, spend the day with Harvey, and then come back home in the evening tired and full of anticipation for when we got to see him again. But as happy as I was, I had come to recognize the little twinge I would get in the back of my head from time to time.

It was worry. Not worry that Harvey was going to hurt us—that was always a possibility, but he’d had plenty of chances if he wanted to do so—but worry that Rusty was…well, he just seemed different somehow.

We had never had pets growing up because my mother was so allergic, and while I loved cats and dogs, my only real exposure to them had been in public or when I was over at a friend’s house. I had even less exposure to how Rusty was around them, but the few times I had been with him when we met a dog or cat, he had been the way he always was—gentle and kind.

But some people are different with their own animals, and some people view pets less as a friend or companion and more as an object to be used or…well, even abused. I never saw him actually be mean to Harvey—he never hit him or anything like that—but I found myself growing more concerned with how he was treating him just the same.