“Sure,” she laughed, “he just can’t talk back.”
“You mean he’s not allowed to?”
“No, I mean he can’t,” she said. “That collar on his neck is a bark collar. He can’t make any sounds at all.”
“Then how could he tell you he wanted to leave?” he asked.
“He can’t.”
I could see Brian’s perception of my catch 22 situation dawn in his eyes. His disgust was gone and the fascination had morphed into an ugly look.
“So… He might not want to live like this, but he can’t do anything about it,” he said.
“Correct.”
“But surely he…I mean if it was me I’d do something,” he said. “I’d stop cooperating or I’d try to escape.”
“The agreement covers that,” my wife said quietly. “I can use whatever means necessary to make him obey or punish him for trying to escape.”
“That wouldn’t stop me,” Brian sta
