The dog will need a spacesuit, won't he?" "Yes, of course. But it will be worth the money and he'll get used to it. And he won't need one in the City. You'll see the difference once he gets here."
Jimmy looked at Robutt, who was squeaking again, a very low, slow squeak, that seemed frightened. Jimmy held out his arms and Robutt was in them in one bound. Jimmy said, "What will the difference be between Robutt and the dog?"
"It's hard to explain," said Mr. Anderson, "but it will be easy to see. The dog will really love you. Robutt is just adjusted to act as though it loves you."
"But, Dad, we don't know what's inside the dog, or what his feelings are. Maybe it's just acting, too."
Mr. Anderson frowned. "Jimmy, you'll know the difference when you experience the love of a living thing."
Jimmy held Robutt tightly. He was frowning, too, and the desperate look on his face meant that he wouldn't change his mind. He said, "But what's the difference how they act? How about how I feel? I love Robutt and that's what counts."
And the little robot-mutt, which had never been held so tightly in all its existence, squeaked high and rapid squeaks-happy squeaks.