Anthony nodded. "Our brilliant son is correct. Just as correct as he was when he first suggested it two months ago."
"But, Anthony, you know how much food costs here. He'd eat us out of—"
"Dogs eat animals," announced Small. "Space Dragoneer says so in his television program."
"Small's right," agreed Anthony. "I'll bet an octerocap has eight different kinds of vitamins, one for each head. We ought to try eating one ourselves and save money."
"Ugh!"
"I want to eat an octerocap," said Small. "He wants to eat me, so I don't see why I shouldn't eat him."
"Never heard more perfect logic in my life," observed Anthony with pride. "That's my boy. However, let's put the lesson in logic aside for a moment, and repair the damage the thing caused. Get the plastic metal, Alice."
But Small was not to be so easily sidetracked. When the repairs to the door had been completed, he said, as if continuing a conversation that had been going on all the time, "Are we getting the dog soon, Daddy?"
"I think we are, Small. Then, for a change, I think your Mommy will feel safe in the house."
"I'll call him, 'Rover'," decided Small.