"Okay, okay! But don't ask to use the gun again." Judd snatched it from her hands. "If you don't want to shoot it, then I will. Maybe we can make you a pair of gloves or something from the pelt."
And Judd pointed his ancient rifle at the little animal preparing to snap off a quick shot. It would be a cinch at this distance. Even Lindy wouldn't have missed, if she hadn't changed her mind.
Judd yawned. He'd failed to realize he was so tired. Not an aching kind of tiredness, but the kind that makes you feel good all over. He yawned again and lowered the rifle. "Changed my mind," he said. "I don't want to shoot it, either. What say we head back for camp?"
Lindy gripped his hand impulsively. "All right, Judd—but I had a brainstorm! I want it for a pet!"
"A pet?"
"Yes. I think it would be the cutest thing. Everyone would look and wonder and I'll adore it!"
"We don't know anything about it. Maybe Earth would be too cold, or too dry, or maybe we don't have anything it can eat. There are liable to be a hundred different strains of bacteria that can kill it."
"I said I want it for a pet. See? Look at it! We can call it Black Eyes."
"Black Eyes—" Judd groaned.
"Yes, Black Eyes. If you don't do this one thing for me, Judd—"