“You grow up with a kid but you never really notice him. He’s just there—on the street, the playground, the neighborhood. He’s part of the scenery, like the parked cars and the green plastic cans on trash day.”

The other kids don’t pay him much attention, but Donald Zinkoff slowly becomes known as a happy goof-off that nobody much likes. That he, despite his aloneness, seems to be having more fun than the others later will rankle them—losers should be unhappy—but Donald doesn’t care. He has great fun even when alone.

“His legs—his legs are going so fast! He thinks that if they go any faster he might begin to fly. A white car is coming from behind. He races the car. He is surprised that it passes him. Surprised but not unhappy. He is too free to be unhappy. He waves at the white car. He stops and looks for someone to laugh with and celebrate with. He sees no one, so he laughs and celebrates with himself. He stomps up and down on the sidewalk as if it’s a puddle.”

Donald’s first day out of the house begins ecstatically as he runs along the sidewalk simply for the joy of it. As he learns about the big world outside, everything is a cause for wonderment. His natural happiness overcomes all disappointments and will carry him forward in the face of failures to come.

“Burping, growing, throwing, running—everything is a race. There are winners everywhere. I win! I win! I win! The sidewalks. The backyards. The alleyways. The playgrounds. Winners. Winners. Except for Zinkoff. Zinkoff never wins. But Zinkoff doesn’t notice. Neither do the other pups. Not yet.”

Donald, too happy to care that he’s not very competitive, doesn’t worry about it. But children need to show some wins or the other kids will begin to look down on them. They form a natural pecking order, and the boy at the bottom will be shunned. This will haunt Donald in the future.