Randy

“Nonsense” said the doctor resolutely, “we have done nothing wrong. Albeit, researchers in the past have been guilty of some horrendous cruelties, but that is for the historians. All of our pets are treated and trained with the utmost care. In fact, our research is beginning to show new ways in which average pet owners can better the lives of their animals!”

“That may be the case,” replied the auditor, “but the Ministry has sent me nonetheless, and I am bound to perform my duty. Any uncooperative behaviour on the part of you or the other employees of Man’s Best Friend Inc. will be deemed suspicious and will result only in further and more intrusive investigation.”

“Of course we will cooperate.” said the doctor with clear sincerity, worry still showing in the lines on his face.

There was a moment’s silence. The auditor looked down at his clipboard and began jotting some hasty notes. For a time, the doctor said nothing. Rain fell softly on the window of the office’s exterior door and the gentle murmur of voices at work could be heard emanating from the threshold of the interior door. The soft pitter-patter and the dampened office hubbub drifted up to fill the empty space left by the halted conversation.

There was a scratch at the exterior door and the auditor glanced over. Then, in a far more relaxed tone than he had hitherto used, the doctor spoke.

“You must understand that I have been under a lot of pressure lately. Head office wants things to move more quickly, and the animal rights activists are always spreading false rumours about our work here at the lab. But I really do love my animals, and we are making some real strides.”

“Oh?” rejoined the auditor with mild interest, dotting something conclusively on his clipboard. “Regardless of your so-called strides, one of your company’s pets apparently bit someone not three weeks ago: completely unprovoked, if the news is to be believed. Poor fellow had to be put into an induced coma until they could find a way to stop the rabies from spreading: he almost died.”

“Codswollop!” retorted the doctor sharply. He, along with his entire office and laboratory staff, had read the article at least once. It had been scathing and, in his opinion, decidedly one-sided, and its biting criticism of Man’s Best Friend still smarted. “They don’t know anything yet. For all we know, that animal could have been turned loose on the street three months before the attack, been bitten by some rabid gutter rat, and then attacked the fellow. Don’t jump to any conclusions until we have all the facts.”

“Fair enough.” said the auditor in a silky smooth voice.

Once more, the two sat silently. The doctor looked down at his desk and fidgeted with the corner of an article which he had printed. The auditor watched him intently, observing everything. His job necessarily entailed interviewing those who did not wish to be interviewed and then deciding from their conversations if his colocutor was potentially guilty of significant and criminal cruelty toward innocent animals. There was another scratch at the door, this one slightly louder than its predecessors, but neither conversant took any heed of it. At length, the doctor’s eyes rose to meet the auditor’s.

“Look,” he said, “what we are doing here is true science and, I might add, will be very much to the benefit of all mankind, if we are allowed to finish that is. We are discovering wonderful things: things which will revolutionise every household across the galaxy, which will introduce children to wildlife and will give comradery to the old! What we are doing here is designed to decrease the rates of cruelty toward animals! No one here would ever want a dangerous pet to be put on the market!”

“Oh?” rejoined the auditor.

“We are making enormous strides!” The doctor leaned forward over the desk, his eyes now twinkling brightly as he spoke: it was clear that he was passionate about his work. “In the past, it took thousands of years, even thousands of generations to fully domesticate a wild beast. Our ancient ancestors had to endure great hardship to do it. But we have been able to take fully wild creatures and domesticate them in only a few generations! Don’t you see what that could mean?”

“That is all well and good,” answered the auditor, “but all of the species at Man’s Best Friend have been domesticated for centuries; taken, and, by process of selective breeding, made simpletons, fit for little more than a walk in the park or to sit on the couch with their masters. Why should any of this progress matter?”

“‘Selective breeding!’” sneered the doctor mockingly. “The pets of the past have been terribly in-bred! They may be stupid and compliant, but they have had crippling health issues. With our program, such maladies are a thing of yesterday! Our animals are hale and hearty; they lead longer lives, demonstrate more amiable and loyal behaviour, and are generally healthier and more helpful, than their selectively bred cousins! You will see, that attack in the news will prove to be highly anomalous, if the animal was even one of ours, which seems unlikely”

There was a scratch at the door.

The auditor looked over at the door briefly, then asked; “And what if one of these genetic friend-freaks you have concocted were to get loose into the wild population? Would it mingle with its nature-kindred, contaminating the gene pool? I have heard that Man’s Best Friend has designs to release some of the new proto-type beasts into the wild.”

The doctor’s eyes burned. After so many years’ experience, the auditor knew how to enflame such folk. Once they were cross, it was easier to incite slips which might betray some misdeed.

“We have no such plans!” the doctor said briskly. “True, we have released our new domesticates into enclosures with untainted, natural specimens, but never into the wild.”

“And what was the result of such an experiment?”

“Docility and simplicity amongst the young. Although some conflict seems to have arisen amongst the parents of these mixed pairings, the young appear mild enough almost to be considered domesticates themselves. The packs generally accept the domesticates and semi-domesticates as children, in the same way that we might coddle and patiently support the mentally infirm.”

“So, if these creatures were to become feral, they would likely dilute the wild populations?”

“Likely, but we are very careful…and even if they were successful in the wild, the result would be in no way negative. In fact, the attacks on hikers and livestock would likely diminish.”

“Wouldn’t the semi-domesticates starve?”

“No, it seems that, when trained by their wild relatives, they can learn the simple arts of pack hunting and organisation, although they are not as successful and they prefer to scavenge or eat omnivorously. Thus they would continue in profusion, but far less to the detriment of the ranchers. It would be a way of allowing for commercial development without unbalancing the natural ecosystem.”

“Fascinating,” mused the auditor, “I have been told before of other species in which that very thing has been done.” He was beginning to appreciate the doctor. Here was a fellow who became excited by learning and facts. His puerile mannerisms were forgivable because of his obviously genuine nature. It seemed almost impossible that he could be abusing animals, and he had made a good point about releasing the domesticates to interbreed with the wild beasts. “I imagine that if you were looking for a permit for such an interbreeding program, it would be easily granted you. It seems that the Ministry would gladly encourage any endeavour which would lessen the number of animal attacks.”

“We already have,” the doctor smiled, returning to his excitable self, “things are moving along quite well. In several decades, attacks by the wild packs on livestock and hikers will be a thing of the past! Mark my words.” He grinned.

There was another scratch at the door. “Alright, alright,” said the doctor. “Here, let me show you one of our latest breeds. He is very sweet; you’ll see, there is no way that he would ever attack anyone. The papers will never be able to villanise this sweet little guy!”

“What’s his name?” asked the auditor as the doctor strode across the cramped office.

“Randy.”

The doctor peered through the wet glass in the exterior door’s window, then beckoned to the auditor to join him. They looked through the streaks at the wet creature below.

“I put him out to get some exercise about an hour ago. He hates this weather, but if I don’t do it he will drive us all insane. Very vivacious, you know, especially when they are as young and fit as he is.”

“That explains his little rain coat.” chucked the auditor. “Too bad his hair is still all wet. How long will he wait there?”

“Well, I have never thought to test it, as I don’t like the idea of forcing him unnecessarily out into the cold, but he is extremely loyal: that’s a major selling point for us.”

With that, the doctor opened the door and his pet rushed inside. The animal shook vigorously and water droplets sprayed across the floor. He excitedly ran up to the doctor, pacing quickly around his legs, and pressing his sides affectionately against the doctor’s thighs. Then, noticing the auditor, he loped over, rubbing his head against the auditor’s leg amiably.

“He really is quite delightful,” laughed the auditor. “Hello little friend!” 

Then he reached down his long arm and rubbed the patch of soft hair on the top of the creature’s head. “I always wanted one of these when I was young, but my mum wouldn’t let us have one, she said their strange hairless bodies frightened her. It’s hands are odd too: those five fingers make it look almost like he could make a tool.”

The doctor laughed. “He’s far too simple-minded for that! This little human could never even conceive of such a thing.” He stroked his pet with a wooly, three-fingered hand. “He is very good natured, and he loves to be petted and given attention. You see, although we are from opposite sides of the galaxy, we truly are man’s best friend!”

That night as the auditor sat on the transport back to his lodgings on Jupiter’s moon, Titan, he thought as he watched the little blue and green planet slowly disappear from sight: When we first arrived some centuries back, those humans were wild beasts. Living amongst strange ruins they could not ever hope to understand and which they surely could not have built. Now, the doctor was about to do what nature had not: perfect this untamed beast, make it fit for civilisation, and likely save the wild reserves in the process. After all, if the attacks on livestock continued, all the animal rights activists in the quadrant couldn’t stay the anger of the ranchers. He looked down at the paperwork sitting on his lap, sealed with the Ministry’s stamps of approbation. 

As he drifted to sleep that night, the last flitting thought to cross the auditor’s mind was: Perhaps I shall return to this God-forsaken frontier someday and see the fruits of the doctor’s labour.