"It's—"
"It's the thing that smashed the snaffle and trampled the octerocap. It's the dog they sent us."
She drew back, and a monster stepped into the room, its clumsy gait almost knocking the door off its hinges. It gazed at her with saucer eyes, and then, as Small came toward it, his own little eyes wide with a puzzled sort of delight, the dog stretched out a tongue bigger than Small's head and tried to lick Small's face. The boy fell over backward, squalling in fright.
"No, Rover!" said Anthony sternly.
The dog hung its head in shame.
"Down, Rover!"
The dog stood motionless, Anthony smacked him on the rear. The dog squatted down on his haunches, his head somewhere near the ceiling.
"See how gentle he is? He may look like a monster, but he wouldn't lay a paw or a tooth on a human being. They breed his kind for gentleness."
"But—are you sure it's a dog? How—why didn't you—"
"I tried to call you late this afternoon, when he arrived," said Anthony reasonably, "but the wire was cut. And your radio wasn't receiving. So I set out to walk him home. Had him on a leash. Not that I could hold him if he really tried to pull away, but he won't exert his full force against a human who has him on a leash."