And Curly said, “We know you are a really truly dog even if we can’t see you. We can’t see the wind either but the wind is real. And we can’t see smells but smells are very real.”

And Nothing-at-all said, “Oh, I suppose it takes all kinds of dogs to make a world, both see-able and unseen-able ones, so why should I worry?”

And he was as happy as any dog could be until there came a day when something happened.

It was a warm and drowsy day. Pointy was lying in his pointed kennel, Curly was lying in his curly kennel, and Nothing-at-all was lying in his roundish kennel. They were dozing, all three, when the sound of voices roused them from their dreams.

“Oh look!” cried a boy-voice. “Here are some dog kennels in this far forgotten corner of the old forgotten farm.”

“With dogs in them?” asked a girl-voice.

The boy looked into one kennel and said, “Yes! There’s a curlyeared dog in here.”

Next he looked into another kennel and said, “And a pointy-eared dog in here!”

Then he looked into the middle kennel, but since only invisible Nothing-at-all was in there, he saw nothing. “The roundish kennel is empty,” he said. “Nothing in it at all.”

Gently and carefully the girl reached for Pointy; gently and carefully the boy reached for Curly, but the two little dogs were frightened and began to whimper. HtCT2e7MWnib3iDVbs0cjDcG3zTh7qlMMl+uDMmjemzvIoyy8mrxihTd7XtVhGmI