Buddy had spent a great deal of time at the children’s ward at the hospital over on the Turnpike. Every Saturday, during Ben’s magic act, he was pulled out of a hat that was old and smelled of alfalfa and sweat. Buddy was used to bright lights and people crying, and he was always well behaved. He had never once bitten a child, not even when he’d been poked or teased. Now, he rose onto his back legs and balanced carefully, just as he’d been taught.