A Pet for Miss Wright 《莱特小姐的宠物》

Max冬冬

A Pet for Miss Wright
Miss Wright was an author.
It was a very lonely job. Every day, she sat by herself at her desk and typed. All sorts of exciting things happened in the words that filled the computer screen.
Characters had adventures in exotic places. They talked and laughed with their friends.
They narrowly escaped their enemies.
But, except for the click of the keyboard, it was silent in Miss Wright’s office.
“It’s too quiet,” Miss Wright thought.
“I need something to keep me company.”
So Miss Wright went to the pet store.
“I have just the thing,” said the man in the pet store. He brought out a bird. “Mynahs repeat everything they hear. It will talk to you.”
But when Miss Wright took the bird home, the mynah did not say any words. It only imitated the keyboard clicking away in Miss Wright’s quiet office.
Miss Wright took the mynah back and brought home a monkey.
The monkey certainly kept Miss Wright entertained, but now her stories made no sense.
When Miss Wright typed, the monkey put his hands on the keyboard, too. A scramble of mixed-up letters filled the computer screen.
“Nothing exotic,” Miss Wright told the man at the pet store as she returned the monkey. “Maybe just a fish.”
The fish stared at Miss Wright from its bowl with its large, goggly eyes.
Miss Wright stared back. Soon they had hypnotized each other and no words appeared on the computer screen for days.
Miss Wright thought a hamster might be better.
It ran around and around on its wheel. Miss Wright’s eyes went around and around, too.
She became too dizzy to write and had to lie down to rest.
Next, Miss Wright tried a cat.
It was lazy and liked to lie all day in the sun.
The sun shone through the window across Miss Wright’s desk. The cat stretched out across the keyboard, quite comfy until dark.
Miss Wright fell asleep trying to write at night.
“No more pets,” Miss Wright said.
But when she took the cat back, the man at the pet store insisted, “You must try a dog.”
Miss Wright did not think a dog would be any better than the other pets. But as she typed, the dog rested quietly on the floor beside her and Miss Wright was not as lonely.
She decided to keep the dog another day. And another. And another.
Every day the dog lay by Miss Wright as the screen filled with words. When Miss Wright stopped typing, the dog sat up, put his head on her desk, and looked at the computer screen to see what she had written.
Miss Wright read the words aloud. If the dog liked the story, he gave her a kiss.
If the dog thought it was sad, he buried his head in Miss Wright’s lap and whined.
If the dog thought it was funny, he howled.
But if he didn’t like what Miss Wright wrote, he ran and got his leash.
Together, he and Miss Wright would take a long walk so they could think of better ideas.
One night Miss Wright typed the last word of a story.
She printed it off and read it to the dog.
The dog whined at the right places. He howled at the right times.
When Miss Wright finished reading, the dog wagged his tail, but did not give Miss Wright any kisses.
Miss Wright thought her story was finished. But the dog didn’t think so.
The dog chewed a red pencil to a sharp point.
He fetched a thesaurus and a dictionary.
He waited as Miss Wright chose some fancier words and corrected her spelling mistakes.
Now the story was perfect and the dog gave Miss Wright lots of kisses.
Miss Wright printed up the revised story and put it in an envelope.
The dog licked the seal.
He pressed the stamp down with his paw.
Then, with the envelope in his mouth, the dog ran down the driveway to wait for the mailman.
A few weeks later, the phone rang.
Miss Wright answered it.
The dog put his head close to the phone so he could hear, too. “It’s accepted!” she said to the dog. “My story will be a book!”
Miss Wright jumped up and down.
The dog jumped up and down, too.
Miss Wright howled.
The dog howled.
The dog chased his tail. Miss Wright spun around and around in her chair until she fell out.
The dog gave her lots and lots of kisses.
Miss Wright gave the dog lots and lots of kisses, too.
Then Miss Wright calmly sat down at her desk again.
The dog lay at her feet as she started typing.
Miss Wright is an author and that’s what authors do. It’s lonely job.
Unless you have a dog.