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sounds like a horrible idea. There is a terrifying pause.
    Lumphy looks fantastically ill.
    StingRay wonders if she can take back her offer.
    No. She can’t take it back.
    Frrrrrr, Frrrrrr. She makes that fear noise without meaning to, again.
    If she takes it back, Lumphy won’t be friends with her.
    He looks even more ill.
    StingRay squeezes her eyes shut and waits for it.
    “I—I don’t think I
can
actually puke,” Lumphy finally says. He sounds a bit disappointed. “Because I don’t eat anything.”
    Phew.
    “How could I forget?” StingRay says. “Of course you have to eat to actually puke. I don’t know how I could forget that for a second like I did, because I totally know all about that.”
    “Sorry I can’t puke on you,” says Lumphy.
    “That’s okay.”
    They are silent for a moment.
    “Hey. Do you know what?” asks Lumphy.
    “What?”
    “You are an especially pretty color,” says Lumphy.

CHAPTER FIVE

In Which Lumphy Is Brave with a Tuna Casserole
    D uring his first four months in the house, as winter rages and then melts, as spring greens and flowers, Lumphy watches a lot of television and lets StingRay teach him board games. He also spends time in the bathroom. The Girl sets him on the toilet seat cover while she takes a bath. It is there that the buffalo witnesses tooth brushing, hair combing, scrubbing with a long-armed scrubby brush, nail clipping, something called hair conditioner, braiding, and also squirting with a spray bottle.
    It is all pretty difficult to understand. Lumphy’s buffalo body doesn’t need any conditioning or combing or clipping. He just goes natural. And all this bathroom activity seems to take an awful lot of the Girl’s time every day. Some of it is obviously cleaning, but some of it doesn’t make any sense. Like, why would you clip your nails? Wouldn’t you want to sharpen them instead?
    At night, when StingRay is asleep on the high bed, Lumphy sometimes trots down the hall to talk to TukTuk about the activities of the bathroom. Right now, he is curious about nose blowing. Where does the snot come from? It comes out in a big honk, like magic.
    “I want some snot!” Lumphy tells TukTuk. “I want to blow my nose and have buffalo snot.”
    “I want to be ironed,” says TukTuk. “But it’s not happening.”
    “That’s so unfair,” Lumphy grumps.
    TukTuk sighs, but doesn’t answer.
    Now Lumphy wants to know about the purple spray bottle. “What’s the point of it?” he asks.
    “People like gadgets,” says TukTuk sagely.
    “All it does is get the tile wet. Why does she want the tile wet?”
    “She doesn’t want the tile wet. She likes to work the spray bottle.”
    “Why?”
    “Just to work it.”
    Lumphy doesn’t think it sounds anywhere near as fun as blowing your nose.
    . . . . .
    The next day Lumphy, StingRay, and Sheep are helping the Girl play farm. She is doing farm chores, walking around and giving each toy a bagel chip.
    The mom comes upstairs carrying a new animal against her chest.
    It is an orange animal. A little smaller than the one-eared sheep. It is stripy on the back and white on the underbelly. Fairly fluffy. And hairy.
    It doesn’t seem to be made of plush, actually.
    In fact, it is wiggling.
    In front of the Girl.
    In front of the mommy.
    StingRay and Lumphy have never seen anything like it.
    The Girl drops Lumphy. “Pumpkinfacehead!” she cries.
    “She’s here for a week,” says the mother, setting the animal down. “While Jessica’s on vacation. I just have to get the litter box and the cat toys out of the car.”
    As soon as the mom sets her down, Pumpkinfacehead bolts under the bed and presses herself against the wall. “Hey there, kitty,” the Girl calls, lying on her tummy and reaching her hand under to stroke the thin orange tail.
    Pumpkinfacehead mews, pitiably, but does not move. “Mngew.”
    “Kitty kitty kitty,” the Girl coos.
    “Mngew.”
    “I won’t hurt you.”
    “Mngew.”
    The Girl tries a