In his third appearance, Claude is the sad-eyed, droopy-eared, slack-jawed, cushion-pawed image of a hound--whose various dog and cat friends can't understand why he resists their blandishments (going to the butcher's for a bone, meeting the school bus, cavorting on the ice) with a regretful but firm: ""I can't go today."" Seeing Claude's friends enjoy themselves, hearing them wish Claude was there, the reader increasingly wonders what's keeping him indoors too. And then, unremarkably but the-better-for-it, we see that he's been keeping his sick-abed boy company. The doggy appeal isn't ersatz--Gackenbach draws them with feeling, and gives thought to their pleasures.