Secret pet.

It might look cute, a little ball, not furry, not fluffy - more scaly and spiky.
It's hard to touch - impossible to swallow - thankfully somehow.
It might sound strong, a great big shout - or a shriek, even a screech. A strangled throat.
It smells of sweat, of trembling lunchtime, acrid, unhealthy, ungratefully unbeatable.
It tastes bitter, inedible, and that's lucky: you shouldn't eat your own pet, even in my country.
It never answers to its name, always tries to camouflage. It looks like anger, sadness, maybe depression.

But it's just fear.