For the past several weeks, I had been asking Nathaniel whether he and the dog were well, and until tonight Nathaniel had consistently averred that this was the case. This evening at 11:30 p.m. the spiral stairway was lit, the door to Nathaniel's room was open, the light was on, the dog was lying stretched out, apparently asleep, in the cage which was closed. I encountered Nathaniel in the kitchen. He was distraught. He said he had been treating the dog for round worms for a week, that he Nathaniel believed himself to be infected with round worms, although he had not seen any evidence of the worms in his stool, that he had been having diarrhea for a week, and that the dog was ruining his life ...

This is a clinical situation with which Nathaniel needs help, which he is much more likely to accept from ypurself or from Laura than from me.  I am concerned about going to Konnarock and abandoning Nathaniel to a dilemma with which he cannot cope.