I think my suspicions first began to take tangible form the day I tried the fake tunnel trick.

It was my most brilliant plan yet.  All my previous attempts had been either to outrun him or to 
catch him at a particular point in the road.  But he was always too fast for feet, for roller skates, for rockets.  
And always, somehow, too fast for falling anvils, rolling boulders, cannonballs, and dynamite.  But no 
matter how fast, he could never hope to run through a solid wall.

First, I painted a vertical rock face to look like the entrance to a tunnel.  Then I linked it to the 
main road with black and white paint, and diverted the white line in the middle to lead down my side road 
straight into the "tunnel".  

I rubbed my paws in anticipation as I concealed myself nearby, waiting for him to come zipping 
along the road as he always did.  This time, this time for sure I had him.   

I heard him approaching.  His was not the sound of running footsteps, but more like a rushing 
wind (accompanied by the occasional meep meep.)  I licked my lips and gritted my teeth.  So assured was I 
of success that several seconds passed before it registered in my mind that he had run straight through into 
the tunnel and disappeared.

My mind went blank.  I climbed out from my hiding place and stood in front of the tunnel, staring 
at it dumbfounded.  

Possible explanations floated aimlessly through my head without taking hold.  Suddenly one 
thought popped up, latching itself onto my conciousness like a shining beacon.

This is all it takes to get away.

In less time than it took for the thought to cross my mind, I wound up and launched myself 
towards the tunnel.

And ran headfirst into solid rock.


* * * * *


More jarring to me than the impact of my cranium against a rock wall was the realization that 
while he could come and go as he pleased, I was trapped.

Every once in a while, when my thoughts were not occupied by constant scheming and trap-
building, it would seem vaguely odd to me that there were no other animals to be seen.  Even in this arid 
landscape, there should have been some -- birds, lizards, snakes, insects, anything.  Sometimes there were 
trucks. Those, of course, only ever appeared either as gleaming fenders at point blank range, or as 
phantoms rumbling on the far horizon, too distant to ever pursue.  In any case, I never saw the driver.  

There were times when I wondered why I labored so tirelessly, so fruitlessly, to catch him.  It 
wasn't about food; if it was, I should have starved to death long ago.  Why then?  Why endeavor to destroy 
the only other living creature in the world?

Whenever I would wait for him by the roadside with some new trick or pitfall, he never failed to 
appear.  Otherwise, it was if he didn't exist.  If I didn't set up traps, I would be all alone; alone with the open 
sky, and the silent, infinite road.


* * * * *


I had strategically placed the pile of birdseed in the middle of the road, where he was sure to pass 
by.  As soon as he stopped to eat, I would depress the plunger and set off the 50 kilos of TNT I had 
arranged around the spot where he would be standing.

Only it didn't work out that way.  Somehow, inexplicably, when I pushed the plunger, I was the 
one who exploded.  He happily finished off all his birdseed and meep meeped.  I knew he was about to run 
off again.

"Wait," I cried.

My voice was hoarse, and sounded unfamiliar.  I realized that it was the first time I had ever 
spoken to him.  

It seemed to have caught his attention.  I swallowed and went on.  "Do you... can you tell me... 
how to leave?"

He cocked his head and looked at me.  For a moment, I thought he was going to answer, but 
instead he just meep meeped again and disappeared in his usual trail of dust.  


* * * * *


I have no way of marking the passage of time, but it seemed like an eternity before I had the 
courage to set up another trap.  It was a simple pulley-and-anvil, one of my most basic executions, but my 
paws were shaking as I put it into place.

He came, and this time he didn't even try to go through the motions.  He stood in the center of the 
road and regarded me for a while before he finally spoke.

"Why would you want to leave?"

His voice had a peculiar quality to it that made it difficult to remember what he sounded like only 
seconds after he had spoken.

"I... there's nothing in this world.  Only violence and silence and roads with no destination."

"Nothing?" he said.  "It has everything.  In this world, you are immortal.  Even the most grevious 
injuries are healed within hours.  Time is immaterial."

"What are you?"

"I am your reason for existence. Your purpose is to chase after me."

"But why?"

"Because otherwise, you would have nothing."

Silence.  Then he kicked up his heels and zoomed away.  I knew it would be the last time he 
would ever speak to me.


* * * * *


I lay out the large rocket by the roadside as a sacrifice to the purple-plumed god.  I straddled it, 
and as he passed by I lit the fuse.  Instead of propelling me forward, it blew up beneath me.  He meeped for 
joy, and raced on down the road forever...