“Your bill is ready, Mr. Biggs, but Tulip needs recovery time.”
Jesse looked at the page and read $8.59.04. He blinked and looked again, $859.04, “I can pay four cents. I might even come up with four hundred cents.”
Jesse had stopped at the first veterinary sign, Rural Animal Care, and carried bleeding Tulip inside. “Wait!” this woman had shouted but Jesse didn’t want to put Tulip on the floor. A bell rang and a person wearing a scrub cap came almost immediately.
“She’s losing blood,” Jesse shouted.
“I can see that,” the doctor, cradling Tulip, pushed open a swinging door with his shoulder as gobs of dark fluids fell to the floor.
“I have to be with my Tulip,” Jesse caught the door.
“You stay where you are, no time for drama,” the doctor answered.
The receptionist now handed Jesse wads of paper towels. “You can help me out. I can’t get down on my knees, son.”
As he was making big circles with his hands and mopping up the dark mess, Jesse knew he had to breathe and keep his mind fixed on what he was doing or he’d go off the rails with fear. He calculated that if he came up with eight dollars and change, he might walk out with Tulip in his arms if he could catch the desk woman off guard.
“Name is Briggs,’ Jesse went to throw the soaked towels in a bin.
“Tulip will be fine. Doctor has experience in the field;” The receptionist hit a button and a sheaf of papers printed out.
“Briggs, Jesse, are you printing out my rap sheet?”
“Why would I do that? These here are post-op instructions for wound care.”
“I can’t believe this is happening, Ma’am. I haven’t done a thing wrong, not a thing.” Jesse held his head in his hands. One month and two days, his life a as a normal clean human being with a dog of his own. His sponsor had found them a shack where he helped the farmer when he was off his kitchen job. It wouldn’t do for winter but he was saving. Eight hundred dollars! Where was that supposed to come from? A noon whistle got his attention. All this had happened before lunchtime?
An older man, white-beard to his chest, old clothes smelling of bats, came in carrying a little nothing of a brown fur bundle in his arms, “Missy is doing poorly,” he said to the receptionist.
“Doctor is in surgery. You just be patient,” she replied.
“Cute dog you got there. What’s his name?” Jesse peered closer at the bundle.
“Missy. She has cancer. It’s gotten worse. What happened to your hand, son?”
“I’m a fry chef, got splashed. That’s awful about Missy. My girl is Tulip.”
The old man cocked his head like a dog, “Say again, son.”
“A sweet girl name, Tulip.”
“She has cancer?”
“No, Tulip doesn’t have cancer. My trouble is I can’t pay for Tulip.” He pointed to the total of $859.04 on the print out. “Big ugly SOB dog laid into her; she had no choice. I mean, what could she do but defend herself?”
“I live every minute I have with my Missy. We mind our business at home.”
“Tulip doesn’t look for fights. I never was a brawler even when I was high.”
“Live every minute with the one you love.” His dog slightly witched her tail.
“I get that!” Jesse raised his voice, then lowered it, “Universal truth.”
“Mr. Biggs,” the receptionist was holding up a paper sac, “Your medications.”
“Eight hundred dollars more? That’s cool, just bring on the money machine. You got slots here? I could play my eight dollars.”
She still didn’t smile. “Medications are included in the bill. Doctor is giving you discounts. Tulip has a punctured lung, multiple abrasions. Possible transfusions.”
“The Rott went for her throat. Tulip would never fight except self-defense. The guy with the fucking Rott attacked.”
“You’re lucky Tulip is young and strong. Staffordshires can be reactive.”
“I trained Tulip myself. It’s a program for dogs in jail, Ma’am. She’s trained.”
“But you wouldn’t say she’s harmless, would you? How about with children?”
“If there’d been video camera out there on the beach, you’d see me throwing sticks, minding my own. We love our freedom; we love every minute of it.”
“Love, son, is all we have.” The old man kissed his motionless Missy.
How could a good day have turned so bad so fast? Jesse asked himself again, seeing the empty beach at Goat Rock and Tulip grinning her huge grin ear to ear. She kept a respectful distance from seals basking on a shelf of land where the Russian River rolled into the Pacific. Tulip, his beautiful grey girl, all muscle except for her pink mouth, always soft as a kiss, went running down the sand for the stick. Out of nowhere plunged a big black Rottweiler dragging his owner over the dunes. The guy fell flat on his face, the Rott broke free and went for Tulip. Jesse jumped in to separate them when one of the dogs bit him and he backed off for a good angle to kick the Rott.
A shot rang out, Tulip came running back to him and lay panting, bleeding.
“Don’t shoot!” Jesse’s hand went up.
“Son of a bitch,” the Rott owner shouted; “You’ll pay for this.”
“Your Rott came out of nowhere.”
“Gentlemen, do I need to arrest you both?” The man belted his gun. “It shoots blanks. I’m a park ranger not police.”
“Arrest him, his pit bull went for my Sheila. Dangerous dog off the leash.”
“I’m not police, guys. Back off or you’ll both get ticketed. What I want you to do is get help for the dogs before one of them bleeds out.”
Jesse was standing up to fight all over again when he realized where he was and sat back down near the old man. “God bless you, son, you and yours,” the old man held his little creature close to him; “She smells like death now.”
“I’m sorry. Here I was shouting and you’ve got worse.”
At the moment the swinging door opened and the doctor in green scrubs and cap came out. “Mr. Briggs?” Jesse nodded and stood; “Come on back. She’s just waking up and you can be there with her. I didn’t need to transfuse. She’s strong. Folks have bad feelings about pitties but they can be sweet and loyal with the right people. Your girl seems a good one. I’d have muzzled her but I didn’t think she needed it.”
“Cause I trained her. When they brought her to the jail, her tits were infected because she’d had pups in the street. She was my responsibility for six months and she was mine when I got out, Sir.”
“No Sir with me. I’m Lena, actually. Those jail programs are great. I once doctored pits they used for fights. Nastiest work I ever want to do but starting a practice is hard. Congrats to you.” The vet removed her scrub cap to wet spiky blond hair.
“Thanks. You’re a lady?” Jesse felt stupid for asking but the words came out. This person had bigger arms and more tats than he did. Her grey eyes were gentle.
“I am. You have a problem with strong women?”
Jesse shook his head, “Not me.” He made a prayer sign with folded hands. “I love women. Just so you know, low security facility up by the airport. They grow plants there and stuff. I was using and got caught dealing. Got clean inside.”
“Good for you. I don’t have a problem with parolees. Let’s talk about Tulip.”
“It’s the money, Doc. I never saw so many zeros. I’m on probation with Tulip,”
“Any idea what you’d be looking at if you’d gone to a VCA hospital in town? Two or three grand. But I want to accommodate you, Jesse. Let’s work on it.”
“Oh, I got to sit down. My sobriety isn’t that sober.”
The doctor nodded her head, “Come with me.”
The vet led the way back through the swinging doors to where Tulip lay with her eyes rolled back to the whites and tubes out of her neck.
“Sweetheart, Tulip!” Jesse knelt beside his dog whose tail moved slightly.
“Tulip needs a night here post-op. We don’t want to move her and start bleeding.”
“I can’t pay the bill already, Doc, and if she has to stay…”
“Jesse, listen.”
“Okay, Doc, I’m listening.” Jesse’s eyes poured tears. Tulip lifted her tail and wagged again.
“I need a night person to take care of my patients. I haven’t been open for business long and I don’t have staff except for Hilda up front. I’ve been spending the night here.” The vet pointed to crates from where some whimpering was coming and a strong smell of antiseptic and pee. “I’ve got two patients here; Tulip will make three. I need my sleep which I haven’t been getting. Tonight’s the night, Jesse. Yes, or no?”
“You would trust me? I love dogs and I learned stuff in the program but I don’t know what to do if something happens.”
“I’ll be on call. I live in the trailer behind the building, you ring a bell. The cot is there. I’ll make you a sandwich and coffee. Glad I can give you a second chance, Jesse.”
Jesse answered without thinking, “Doc, I appreciate your offer but you’re not giving me my second chance like it was spiritual or something. I got that already with dogs. If I have anything good coming to me, it’s from dogs and Tulip.”
The minute words were out, Jesse shook his head. He always said the wrong things without thinking. You just blew it.
But Doctor Lena was smiling. “I like your words, Son. I like the sound of the truth you don’t hear much these days. Now I’m asking you a favor.”
Jesse, who was sweating and felt his head spin, answered, “Yes, sure.”
“The person in the waiting room with Missy. You go to him. Nothing I can do. She’s riddled with cancer. He won’t let me put her down. He just comes and sits. If you go outside and be with him, I can get back to Tulip and you get your first gold star.”
The old man was crying, his head almost in his lap where a bundle of hair in his lap looked like an abandoned slipper. “It’s for the best, son. Missy gave up the ghost. Now it’s only me and the cows.” The old man in his overalls stood, holding Missy. “I’ll take you home now, my little darling.”
He looked up at Jesse. “God bless you and yours, Son.”
“God bless,” Jesse answered and stood up to open the door to the outside.
Barbara lives in northern California, retired teacher and journalist, now activist and gardener. Five novels in print with various small presses, most recently “Masha and Alejandro Crossing Borders” Spuyten Duyvil. Many pubs in periodicals/anthologies.
