by David Lubar
Seventh grade seems sort of old for Pet Day, but I have the greatest dog in the
world, so I figured I'd bring him. Roy was fine being around other animals, even
after we walked into my first-period math class and saw the tiger lying next to Mr.
Stockton's desk. At first, I thought it was fake. Mr. Stockton is a bit of a joker. But
then I noticed that the tiger's flanks were moving slowly with each breath. As I
said, Roy was fine -- but I could feel myself tense up a bit.
"She's safe," Mr. Stockton said. "She just had a big meal. Sheeba won't want to do
anything except nap for a while."
"Okay . . ." I pulled back on the leash as Roy tried to get close enough to sniff the
"You're just a big kitty, aren't you?" Mr. Stockton said. He knelt down and ruffled
the tiger's head. "Who's my sweet girl? Who's my little biddle kitty-iddle."