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Raj had brought the guinea pig hidden inside a shoebox.
His name was Dr. Howard.
Howard considered this an honor until he discovered that the animal was fat, nervous, and had a habit of peeing whenever he got frightened.
“Why does he have my name?”
“Because he has your eyes,” Raj said.
“My eyes are blue-green.”
“Then it’s because of the personality.”
Dr. Howard disappeared before eleven.
They found the box empty, a lonely slice of carrot abandoned on the carpet, and Sheldon immediately declared that no one was leaving the kitchen until the fugitive had been located.
Leonard was the first to spot two tiny paws underneath the stove.
“He’s here.”
All four of them dropped to their knees.
Down there, between the wall and a worrying amount of dust, Dr. Howard appeared perfectly comfortable.
Raj held out a lettuce leaf.
“Howard... come here, sweetheart.”
The guinea pig did not come.
Howard tried cheese.
“Guinea pigs don’t eat cheese,” Sheldon said.
“He doesn’t know that.”
Dr. Howard apparently did.
He did not move.
Leonard pushed the little cushion they had prepared in the box toward him.
Nothing.
Raj looked offended.
“We made him a bed.”
Sheldon, still lying flat on the floor, replied,
“Evidently, he prefers being under the stove.”
“But it’s ugly under there.”
“That is a human assessment.”
Raj rested his chin in his hands.
“I wanted to show him the stars.”
Howard looked into the narrow gap.
“He’s a guinea pig, Raj.”
“Still.”
Leonard kept looking at Dr. Howard.
Then he glanced through the kitchen window. Outside, Sheldon had left the telescope pointed toward the sky.
“Maybe he likes it because it’s dark.”
Sheldon turned his head.
“There is no reason to connect a preference for confined spaces with astronomy.”
“I didn’t say anything about astronomy.”
“You looked at the telescope.”
“You look at the stars all the time.”
“Because they’re interesting.”
Leonard pointed under the stove.
“And he likes that.”
Sheldon frowned.
“Likes what?”
“His little corner.”
“He is under an appliance.”
“Yeah.”
Leonard thought for a few seconds, searching for the words.
“Maybe, for him, that’s like your stars.”
Sheldon looked genuinely offended.
“There is no similarity whatsoever between a star and the space beneath a stove.”
“There is.”
“What?”
Leonard shrugged.
“We look at it and don’t understand why anyone would want to be so far away.”
Sheldon opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
Under the stove, Dr. Howard finally began chewing the lettuce leaf.
Raj smiled.
“I think he’s happy.”
Howard knelt down again.
“How do you know?”
Raj pointed.
“Because he stayed.”
Later, when all four boys were outside in the backyard waiting for the meteor shower, Sheldon asked,
“Leonard?”
“Hmm?”
“If Dr. Howard could see the stars from underneath the stove, do you think he would come out?”
Leonard thought about it.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because then he’d have the stars and the stove.”
Sheldon considered this.
“That is a surprisingly efficient solution.”
A white streak crossed the sky.
Raj shouted.
Howard nearly spilled his hot chocolate.
And Sheldon, instead of immediately searching for the next meteor, looked for a moment toward the glowing kitchen window.
Inside, somewhere beneath the stove, Dr. Howard was sleeping without knowing that the universe was enormous.
Sheldon thought that was a little sad.
Then he thought that perhaps Dr. Howard didn’t.
And he couldn’t decide which one of them was right.