Page 64 of Return Billionaire to Sender

“But on the upside, I’m imagining he wasn’t unpredictable and crazy like those little dogs.”

“Nice to see you’re at least learning something. And yes, Chuckles was cool. He’d never bite me.”

“Am I Chuckles the dog in this story? Or am I the asshole Stanley?”

I give him a warning look.

His eyes sparkle. “Do go on.”

“Anyway, one day I found Chuckles wandering around in this subdivision miles away. My route covered a lot of territory, and I was surprised to find him there—I couldn’t imagine how he’d gotten so far. I was thinking he must’ve gotten out of the fence, like maybe it wasn’t latched, I don’t know. I picked him up and I brought him back to Stanley’s place on my way home, just quietly let him back into Stanley’s yard. A day or two later, I found Chuckles somewhere else—a different direction. I brought him home and knocked on Stanley’s door, thinking to let him know Chuckles was getting out, but Stanley was gone, so I just left Chuckles in the yard again.”

“Chuckles is a little escape artist.”

“That’s what I thought,” I say. “But a week later I ran into Stanley at the grocer and I asked him how’s Chuckles? And he’s like, ‘The damndest thing. That dog, I tried to get rid of him. I’d bring him miles and dump him out, and he’d find his way back—back inside the fence. I never thought that dog liked me, but he must’ve been running at top speed to get back to me. So I decided I’d best keep the old varmint. I didn’t realize he wanted to be with me so bad.’”

Malcolm blinks, stunned, it seems.

“I know, right? How horrible was Stanley to do that? When you get a dog, you are taking on the obligation to care for that dog for its entire life. That dog was depending on him.”

Malcolm gazes into the middle distance with a stunned look on his face, as if he’s suddenly spotted tiny elven folk there, doing the macarena.

“What?”

“Stanley didn’t want the dog because he thought the dog didn’t appreciate him,” Malcolm says.

“Exactly. Granted, Chuckles didn’t seem to like anybody. I mean, he was like Stanley in that way. But you don’t just dump a dog,” I say.

“No—true. There’s a special place in hell reserved for people like that,” he mumbles, still with that strange expression.

“What?” I ask.

“Stanley thought Chuckles didn’t love him, didn’t want him, so that made Stanley not want or love Chuckles. But when Stanley thought that Chuckles loved him, his entire disposition changed.”

“Exactly. It was a shift in his thought, a shift of perception. And that’s what I want you to understand. This video isn’t a punishment. It’s an opportunity—”

“This is incredibly…interesting,” Malcolm says in a reverent tone.

“Are you being funny now?”

“Quite the opposite,” Malcolm says.

“I think you might be just patronizing me.”

“Did Stanley say anything else? Are there any other details?”

“Are you trying to get out of the video?” I ask.

“No, I like that story, I really do. Are questions not allowed?”

“Other details. Well, around a year later he showed me this trick he’d taught Chuckles, so they were clearly bonding. I mean, after Stan’s attitude shifted, he actually had a better relationship with Chuckles. Nothing changed with Chuckles—nothing about the dog changed, but everything changed with Stanley’s attitude, and suddenly their relationship was great. And that’s how this footage could be for you.”

“Only the story Stanley told himself changed,” Malcolm whispers. He seems really taken with that aspect. “I’m Chuckles,” he says.

“What? No!” I say, surprised that he’d be so dense about it. “You are Stanley and the video footage is Chuckles. The point is, this video isn’t a punishment if you don’t relate to it as a punishment. You need to stop telling yourself that it’s a punishment and it won’t be one.”

Malcolm seems so happy. “Perfect.” He sits back and crosses his legs. “Let’s go on, then, with the video,” he says.

“This seems too good to be true,” I say.

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