Chapter 2 #4
“Because somebody just brought in a dog that he’d gotten from the rescue, but it bit his poodle, not even so much that it was a bad bite but because there’s such a large difference in size between his dog and this one.
Anyway, the bite needed to be looked after.
And, of course, now both the owner and his tiny dog are petrified of this rescue dog.
And we both know, if he goes back to the shelter, they’ll euthanize him by the end of the day. ”
“Right. I’m not that far away from you. I’ll come by and have a look, if you’ve got him there.”
“I do. I’m just not sure what I can come up with for a long-term solution for him.”
“Understood. Unfortunately there’s never really a good solution, is there?”
“No,” she agreed. “So, if you can come take a look, I would really appreciate it.” She disconnected and finished off the next couple clients, working out of a different exam room. When she turned around to hear someone in her lobby, she found a tired Wilden walking in, and he had Sarge with him.
Sarge greeted her happily, as if trusting that no way would he get put back in a cage again. Then she walked them over to the back room and opened the door so that the other dog could come out.
Wilden raised both eyebrows. “Hot damn, another Malinois.”
“Yes, exactly, but I don’t know anything about this one. He has no chip in him.”
The two dogs bounced with joy to see each other, happily recognizing kindred spirits. Wilden watched the two of them playing with each other. “It’s almost as if they recognize each other.”
“And they might,” she noted, “but I don’t know that anybody would have had another War Dog here.”
“No, maybe not,” he conceded. “They’re not that common, and there’s quite a process to get them.”
“At the end of the day,” she added, “you would think someone would be safeguarding their care. I should have checked at the rescue center, but I didn’t want them to know that this dog had been handed over already.”
“Checked for what?” he asked.
“Just for information on the guy who turned in this dog originally.”
“Do you think that what’s happened?” he asked her.
“Yes, I would suppose so. I have no reason not to believe my client, Tom, but I know that the rescue centers are also desperate to get dogs adopted. However, my client is an old man and can’t handle a big high-energy dog like this,” she explained, “and neither could his teacup poodle.”
“None of that sounds like a combination for a good pairing. Sounds more like Tom looked to be an easy mark that the rescue center could fob off the dog onto.”
“Exactly,” she agreed, with a nod, “but considering that their job is to move out as many of these animals as they can—or euthanize them—I do understand.”
“Right, but we also don’t want these centers placing dogs into situations where they’ll be dangerous to themselves or others either.”
The fact that he seemed to understand so much made her heart leap with joy. She nodded. “Yet I don’t know what to do with this dog. Do you have any training to get him to calm down quickly?”
“He’s young,” Wilden explained. “He just needs to be worked with. I mean, they can’t be adopted by people who can’t walk them,” he noted, shaking his head.
“They need exercise, particularly these breeds. These dogs need jobs. And, if you don’t have a job for them, well, you get overstimulated dogs with a lot of pent-up energy and frustration. ”
Vivian just nodded in agreement.
He sighed. “Let me take him and see if Sarge can help by being a good influence. Maybe we can calm down this one a bit, if nothing else.”
“He seems to be a nice dog,” she said, checking him out with Sarge, “and they’re already just having fun and playing together, but Sarge is older, right?”
“Sarge is coming up on eight or so,” he replied. “However, at the moment, he certainly doesn’t seem to be giving in to old age anytime soon.”
She laughed. “No, he seems to be enjoying life right now.” She turned to face him and asked, “No progress on the search for Jackson?”
“No, no progress.”
“What about,” she hesitated and added, “your father?”
“Yes, the cremation is a go,” he shared.
“My grandma has been dodging them, thinking my father had spent all her money until she gets her next monthly payment. So, I paid for that, and a few other things so her utilities stay on. Plus, I got her some groceries. She’s way too thin.
My father apparently has been spending her pension faster than it came in, and tons of things around the house need to be fixed up that he just let slide.
I’m heading to the bank next.” He glanced down at his hands, each holding a leash.
“But, with two dogs in tow, that might be a bit much.”
“I’m done here, so, if you want—seeing how I put both of the dogs into your care—I could come along and could stay with the dogs outside, while you go inside.”
He nodded. “That would help. Thanks. I also saw the lawyer earlier today. My father did have a will, leaving everything to his mother and me. Even more surprising was that he still had some money in his bank account,” he shared.
“So I’ll try to get that transferred. Seemed he preferred spending Nan’s money over his.
Regardless, I’ll need it because I’ll make some changes around the house for my grandmother.
That way she can have a bathroom on the ground floor that’s more accessible for her.
” He shrugged. “My father didn’t do very much for her, other than take over her house and her money for his own use,” he grumbled, followed by a growl.
“I’m sorry. Let me lock up so you can get to the bank before it closes.” She walked to her office, snagged her purse and keys, then headed to the front door with him, both dogs frolicking behind them. As she locked up, she turned to him and noted, “That’ll be one more thing that you’re done with.”
He loaded up the animals. She went to her car and followed him to the bank. As soon as they got there, she headed over to his vehicle and stood with the dogs outside, waiting for him to come back out again. He wasn’t inside for too long.
When he came back out again, he carried a bunch of papers, and she could tell that he was a little disturbed by something. “Not quite what you expected?”
He looked over at her and shook his head. “No, not what I was expecting at all,” he declared. “So, just more things to think about.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” she suggested, with a smile. “Sometimes we think we know who people are, but we don’t always.”
He smiled at her and asked, “You want to come meet Nan?”
Surprised, she considered her options and then suggested, “Actually I was wondering whether we should take these two for a long walk or something.” As she spoke, both dogs turned to her, their ears cocked at the magical word. She laughed. “They certainly seem to understand those universal words.”
“I think all dogs do, don’t they?” he said, with a smile. “First let’s check in with Nan. Assuming she’s okay, maybe we can do that. There used to be some waterfalls not too far from here.”
She stared at him, her eyebrows raised. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen waterfalls around this area.”
He snorted. “You may have been here five years, but apparently you’ve spent all your time working.” She rolled her eyes at that. “At one time, those waterfalls were my favorite go-to place.”
“Then I absolutely would love to see them,” she stated, “because I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like that here.”
“To Nan’s first. I just want to check on her and to confirm she’s good to go. Then we’ll take the dogs for a long walk.”
She followed him to his place, marveling as they pulled up in front of a small two-story house that looked as if it had seen better days. As he got out and walked around toward her, she asked, “Are you sure your gran’s okay with this?”
“Absolutely,” he declared, with a smile. “She used to be a very social person, but I know my father has caused her a lot of trouble over that.”
Vivian nodded, and together they walked up to the house, both dogs bouncing eagerly ahead. He looked down at the second dog and asked, “What’s this guy’s name?”
She snorted. “My client Tom was going to name him Sugar.” Wilden shook his head at that, and then she added, “If anything, it should be Spice because there’s definitely some spiciness to him.”
He shook his head at that too. “Come on. Give the dog some dignity at least.”
She laughed. “So you come up with a name for him then. As long as we can get him to respond to it, that’s all that matters.”
“Maybe we should phone the rescue center and see if he had a name that he already responds to,” he suggested, looking at her.
She frowned at that. “That brings me back to the fact that I am the vet. However, if I’m looking after him, that would make sense.
Let me make that call real quick.” She quickly phoned the center, while he walked into the house to let Nan know that they were here.
By the time Vivian made it up to the front step, he had the door open and was smiling at her.
“Nan is more than happy to have you around.”
“His name is Dagger,” she shared.
“Dagger, huh?” He turned to the dog and called out, “Dagger.” The dog stopped, looked at him, and then barked. “That would appear to be his name. Not exactly a warm and fuzzy name,” he noted, “but I guess beggars can’t be choosers.”
She smiled. “At least he responds to something.”
“Yep, absolutely.” He chuckled. “We’ll take it.” He let her inside.
Vivian walked in to see a tiny older woman sitting in a small chair in the living room, having a cup of tea.
The woman looked up at her and smiled. “You’re the veterinarian.”
“I am one of the vets in town, yes,” she clarified, with a smile.
“Call me Marriane.”
“I’m Vivian.”
“Thanks for coming. I’m so glad you don’t hold anything against my grandson for his father’s behavior.”
Vivian frowned at her. “No, I would never do that. And your son’s behavior was his fault, not your grandson’s and not yours.”
Marriane’s breath caught just a bit, as she nodded with satisfaction. “It’s not easy when you know what your own son has done,” she whispered. “So, I appreciate the fact that you have been patient and generous.”
Vivian nodded. “Despite my trouble with John, I am sorry you lost your son.”
“I know people will say that,” Marriane replied, her tone sad, “but the truth is, nobody is really sorry. I think they’re all probably just grateful that he’s gone.” She sighed, then added, “The sad thing is, I’m glad too.”
Her words struck like a punch, and Vivian realized that, no matter what she had been dealing with when it came to John, this poor woman had been dealing with far worse.