“I’m not sure you understand. That box might be taking you to a place where there are other elephants,” I say. “A place with more room, and humans who care about you.” But even as I say these words, I remember with a shudder the last box I was in. “I don’t want a zoo,” Ruby says. “I want you and Bob and Julia. This is my home.” “No, Ruby,” I say. “This is your prison.”