Wednesday
It isn’t a fish. I cannot quite make out what it is. It makes curious, devilish noises when not satisfied, and says “goo-goo” when it is. It is not one of us, for it doesn’t walk; it is not a bird, for it doesn’t fly; it is not a frog, for it doesn’t hop; it is not a snake, for it doesn’t crawl; I feel sure it is not a fish, though I cannot get a chance to find out whether it can swim or not. It merely lies around, and mostly on its back, with its feet up. I have not seen any other animal do that before. I said I believed it was an enigma, but she only admired the word without understanding it. In my judgment it is either an enigma or some kind of a bug. If it dies, I will take it apart and see what its arrangements are. I never had a thing perplex me so.