Prince
gets depressed
Chopped
because it slowed the pace down during the
most crucial section of the novel:
The
next few days were a blur.
I
watched the Family from behind an invisible
wall, unable to break through. At night, my
wolf-dreams became nightmares and I would
jump awake, cold with fear.
I
couldn’t eat. I would just stare at
my bowl, looking down at the meat and biscuits,
as if trying to unscramble some secret code.
I’d
hear voices. The Family, miles above me.
‘He
looks terrible.’
‘He
hasn’t touched it.’
‘What’s
the matter boy?’
‘Poor
Prince.’
But
no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t
engage. Nothing made sense any more. Nothing
held together.
When
I went for a walk, I was no longer interested
in keeping track of the trails on the pavement
or in spraying my Labrador scent. My loyalty
to the breed was waning, and I was losing
faith in the Pact.
Without
knowing how to act, how could I act at all?
Eventually,
Adam decided to take matters into his own
hands.
‘All
right Prince,’ he told me, with a conciliatory
head-stroke. ‘I think it’s time
we took you to see Nice Mister Vet.’
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