From a very early age, he wanted to be a dog.
He would scurry around the house, barking and rubbing his head against his parent’s ankles. It was obvious that he got a great deal of satisfaction out of being a dog. So much so, that his parent’s let it go on. On reflection, there came a point when they mutually agreed that it had gone on too long. It was decided that his father would speak to him. One evening, just before his bedtime, his father sat him down.
“Now then,” he began, “your mother and I wondered what you would like to be, when you grow up?”
“Can I be a dog?” he said, and grinned.
“No. Not really, but there are so many interesting things you could be.”
He sat thinking for a while. “I’m not sure, I’ve never really thought about it.”
“Well, your best subject seems to be maths. So, maybe something where you work with numbers a lot.”
“I like reading too.”
“Yes, well, you’ll always need to read when you study. Let me think; you could do something in computing, such as a computer programmer, or an accountant, or you could become a mathematics teacher, or maybe something in air traffic control, or a transport analyst, or an economist, some sort of statistician or a researcher, or a librarian, even librarians are dealing with numbers a lot of the time, to keep track of their books.”
The boy nodded at this. So it was agreed that he would study to become a librarian. Everybody was happy with the idea, and as time went on the idea became a reality. He became a librarian.
It was satisfying work, but somehow, all through the years there seemed to be something missing. As the years went on he married and had a family of his own. For the whole of his working life he was a librarian, gaining higher and higher positions, until the day he retired from his position of Head Librarian at one of the most prestigious libraries in the city.
After his wife passed away, age came upon him savagely. With his children gone and leading their own lives, he was left alone. Eventually, he began acting strangely. People said it might be Alzheimer’s disease or dementia, or something.
Nevertheless, for him, fulfilment came the day he realised that although he was alone, he was now truly in his own world.
He went out into the garden; he dropped to all fours and sniffed. There had been other dogs in the garden.
He growled.