“She said it could be a virus.”
“Well … maybe. But looking at his eyes, it seems more systemic to me. If he were a younger dog I’d say parvo or heartworm, which is a parasite. But again, we commonly see toxo in pound dogs or strays, and I’m sure he’s had his heartworm medications. Anyway, we’ll see from the stool results tomorrow.”
“Wait, wait. You’re saying it could be parvo or heartworm, but you don’t really think it’s either of these?”
“No.”
“So what do you think it is?”
The doctor shook his head. “I’d say there’s a better than fifty-fifty chance he’s got some kind of tumor. On the brain or on the brain-stem.”
“And if he has?”
“Well, it’s like a human being. You can sometimes fix these things — ”
At this juncture, as though to demonstrate that things were not in a very fixable state right now, Dempsey started to shudder in Todd’s arms, his claws scrabbling against the metal table as he tried to stay upright.
“It’s okay, boy! It’s okay!”
The doctor went for a nurse, and came back with an injection.
“What’s that for?”
“Just to calm him down a little, so he can get some sleep.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. It’s a mild tranquilizer. If you don’t want me to give it to the dog, Mr. Pickett … ”
“Yes. Yes, give it to him.”
The injection did indeed subdue Dempsey’s little fit. They wheeled him away into another room to be given an intravenous infusion, leaving Todd with the quilt.
“Damn dog,” he said, now Dempsey was out of earshot, “More trouble than he’s worth.” Tears very close.
“Why don’t we get a cup of coffee?” Marco suggested, “And we can talk to the doctor more when we get back?”
There was a little donut shop in the mini-mall at the top of Sepulveda, and it had just opened. They were the first customers of the day. Todd knew the instant he walked in that both the women serving recognized him, so he turned round and walked out again rather than risking getting caught in a conversation: Marco brought out two coffees and two Bear Claws in greaseproof paper, still warm from the oven. Though he hadn’t thought he had an appetite, the pastry was too good not to be eaten; so he ate. Then, coffee in hand, they walked down to the hospital, the eyes of the women in the donut shop glued to Todd until he had disappeared from sight.
They said nothing as they walked. The day was getting underway; the traffic on Sepulveda backing up as it waited to take its turn to get onto the freeway. These were people with two-hour commutes ahead of them before they got to their place of work; people with jobs they hated, houses they hated, and a paycheck at the end of the month that wouldn’t even cover the cost of the mortgage, the car payments, the insurance.
“Right now,” Todd said, “I’d give my eye teeth to be one of them, instead of having to go back in there.”
“I can go in for you.”
“No.”
“Dempsey trusts me,” Marco said.
“I know. But he’s my dog.”