Though Josie survives her illness, the novel sours the relief of her recovery through the growing distance between the owner and AF. Klara’s owner has been spared but the relationship with her has not, and the effect of this is a painfully emotional ending to the story. The story charts a set of diverging trajectories: as Josie strengthens, Klara declines. Demeaning treatment accompanies this “slow fade.” The Mother and Josie hardly even look in Klara’s direction when they meet her around the house, and Klara relates how she has been consigned to the “Utility Room.” Her owners have taken her affections for granted and dispense with her when she is no longer needed. As the reader discovers in the final pages, they have all but left Klara behind.
Adding to this pathos is the acute dissonance between Klara’s optimistically mechanical narration and the circumstances around her. Even while stranded in the Yard, she takes inventory of the “wide sky,” “orderly rows” of scrap metal, and the appeal of her “special spot.” Her grace—almost obliviousness—to this cruel abandonment elicits an even deeper sadness on the part of the reader. Far from downplaying the scene’s emotion, Klara’s flat prose only emphasizes this instance of unrequited love at its most devastating. The AF has given her all in service to her owner, only to suffer the loneliness and indignities of the junk heap. Expectation gets repeatedly met by loveless disappointment, up to the novel’s last sentence. After a visit from the Manager, Klara eagerly watches her recede into the distance. “I thought she might look back one last time at me,” Klara thinks, only to realize that the Manager has turned away from her, towards the construction cranes instead.