After reading A Boy and His Dog, I decided I liked the story but not the ending. It felt like after everything he did throughout the whole story, nothing changed. It was just as it was in the beginning. So I changed the ending to my liking.
“It was a small fire, not nearly big enough for any roverpak to spot from the outskirts of the city. No smoke. And after Blood had eaten his fill, I carried him to the air-duct a mile away, and we spent the night inside, on a little ledge. I help him all night. He slept good. In the morning, I fixed him up pretty good. He’d make it; hr was strong.
He ate again. There was plenty left ftom the night before. I didn’t eat. I wasn’t hungry.
We started off across the blast wasteland that morning. We’d find another city, and make it.
We had to move slow, because Blood was still limping. It took a long time before I stopped hearing her calling in my head. Asking me, asking me: do you know what love is?
Sure I know.
A boy loves his dog.”
“It was a small fire, not nearly big enough for any roverpak to spot from the outskirts of the city. Blood ate. Quilla June ate. I had a little, but I wasn’t to hungry. I fixed blood up, patched his wounds. I knew he would make it; he was a strong dog.
The three of us slept in an air duct that night. Blood whimpered in pain, as Quilla June cried herself to sleep thinking about her Poppa. I held her tight. She held Blood, and to my surprise he let her.
The next morning we ate again. We started off across the blast wasteland that morning. We’d find another city, and make it.
Quilla June and I walked slow with Blood. He was still limping. As miles passed I though back to when Quilla June asked me in that boiler room: do you know what love is?
Now I know for sure. I patted Blood on the head and squeezed her hand a little tighter. And I smiled. ”