The Splendor of Ordinary Days (13 page)

Every Dog Has His Day

F
riday I was up at sunrise and went for a run, putting Rhett on his leash to make him trot along.

“Come on, fellow. We need to get you trimmed up for your big introduction to the new neighbor. Girls want a guy to be a little buff. You can't get by on your charm alone.”

I was confident he understood every word of my advice by the way he eagerly wagged his tail. But as soon as we passed the Fox house and headed down Fleming Street, he was straining at the leash to go back. I mildly admonished him about getting in shape, injecting as much guilt into the conversation as possible. He responded by turning his back toward me and sitting down. A few tugs on the leash brought him around to my way of thinking.

Reluctantly, he consented, and we began the mile run out to Watervalley Lake. We soon passed the last of the ­tree-­shaded streets and moved into the open countryside. A warm, drowsy breeze ruffled the blades of corn in the adjacent fields, and the morning air was filled with the fragrant aroma of late honeysuckle.

Given the discord that had overshadowed the town the past couple of weeks, it was good to be reminded of the pervading tranquillity and lulling tempo of rural life. A light dew covered the nearby field grass, birds chirped in the tall trees, and a soft, misty fog hung motionless over distant pastures. It seemed that by small degrees I was beginning to understand Christine's love of this wide valley.

Normally, Rhett and I would have the lake to ourselves at such an early hour, but this morning as we neared the bandstand, I saw Karen Davidson standing in the grass by the water's edge, dressed in running gear.

I called out as we approached. “Hey, Karen. Good morning.”

She waved and headed in our direction. “Hi, Luke. Good to see you again. Who is this fellow?”

I had been practically dragging Rhett the last hundred yards and saw no danger in letting go of his leash, thinking he would immediately faint into a big ball of panting fur. Instead, he shot up from his near collapse and bolted toward Karen, leaping into the air and knocking her to the grass, treating her like a giant lollipop.

Karen exploded with laughter and was immediately on her knees, affectionately rubbing behind his ears. She had to hold him at bay to prevent him from crawling all over her.

“Rhett! Rhett! Back off now! Karen, I am so sorry!”

Still bursting with laughter, she held up her hand. “It's okay, Luke. He's fine. He's fine.”

“I don't know what got into him. Again, I am so sorry.”

Karen continued to briskly rub Rhett's head and talk to him entreatingly, regarding him with a face of irreproachable devotion, as if he glowed. Eventually she stood and held her hand flat toward him, speaking in a low, instructive voice. “Stay. Now stay.”

Rhett immediately assumed an obedient seated position and stared at her with spellbound attention, rocking lightly in rhythm with his incessant panting.

“Okay,” I said, “that was just amazing. I'd have to promise him a T-bone to do that for me.”

Karen was practically jubilant, and her mood was contagious. She shrugged and spoke modestly. “I can't explain it really. It's always been that way with dogs and me. They just go nuts when they see me. It's, I don't know, a weird kind of gift.”

“So you are used to this kind of reaction?”

“Yeah, with cats too sometimes.”

“Well, for your sake, I hope the gift doesn't extend to cows and horses.”

She half grinned, giving me a ­wide-­eyed expression. “Fortunately, they're not quite so exuberant. But they do respond to me pretty uniquely.”

“How so?”

“Hard to say, honestly. Animals are just really calm around me. Somehow I can tell what they're thinking. And sometimes I sense that they can read my mind too.”

I stood dumbfounded, thoroughly intrigued. “That's just fascinating. Half the time I can't read my own mind.”

She laughed and added rather shyly, “Yeah. It's just not the kind of thing you can put on your business card.” She held up her hands with her thumbs extended, much like a movie director would do to frame a scene. “Karen Davidson, Psychic Vet.”

“Right. I see. Not the kind of thing the boys at the Co-op are going to readily warm up to.”

She scrunched her mouth into a tight grimace and nodded. I was beginning to understand her dilemma.

“Well, you've certainly made a believer out of me,” I said.

“Yeah, one person down. One whole town to go.”

“So, is that why you didn't want to give Luther an interview? Thought you might say something he'd take the wrong way?”

Karen smirked. “I didn't give Luther an interview because, quite frankly, he's creepy. And yeah, I have a bad habit of saying things the wrong way.” She paused and looked down, her voice tinged with embarrassment. “But I guess you already figured that out after that fiasco in your office. I hope that didn't cause a problem?”

“None whatsoever.”

She patted Rhett on the head and spoke with resolve. “But I'm good with animals, really good. If the farmers just give me a chance, I think I'll be okay.”

“So, the grand opening of the new and improved clinic is in a couple of Saturdays, right? July fifth?”

“Yeah, the Sweetlife Bakery is going to cater a bunch of treats for both people and pets. Hopefully, we'll get a good crowd.”

“Ah, so you've met the two sisters?”

“Sure have. They're certainly a pair.”

“Know them well,” I responded. “Anyway, I hope the grand opening is a big success.”

“Thanks. Me too.”

I detected genuine worry in her voice. She spoke again, noticeably changing the subject.

“So, are you trying to get Rhett in leaner shape?” All during our conversation, Rhett had remained frozen like a statue from the Jedi mind trick Karen had performed on him.

“Yeah, I told him if he didn't slim down some, I'd have to cut off his cigarette money.”

She rubbed his ears playfully, then stopped abruptly. She was looking closely at Rhett's face. “Is there something going on with his right eye?”

“I'm glad you asked,” I said. “I've noticed lately that it seems cloudy.”

She bent down and held Rhett's head, gently pulling back the skin around his eye. “Hmm,” she whispered softly. “I might need to take a look at this back at the clinic.”

“What do you think it could be?”

“Hard to know for sure without a scope. Might be as simple as cataracts or as serious as a tumor.”

“Treatment?”

“Depends. If it is tumor related, sometimes it's just best to take the eye out, before it metastasizes.” She looked around toward Rhett's male parts, noting that everything was present and accounted for. “Might not be a bad idea to get him neutered too.”

I winced at this thought. Rhett made no reaction whatsoever, proving that Karen truly had him under a spell. His perfect understanding of English would normally have him snarling at such a suggestion.

Karen read the look on my face. “It's actually healthier for them,” she added.

“Karen, I'm sure you're right. But I don't know. For some reason, whenever I picture Rhett, I see him with testicles. So we'll leave the accessories alone for now.”

“Sure. Just a thought.”

It was time to head back. I reached over, grabbed his leash off the ground, and whispered to Rhett, “You owe me ­big-­time.”

We walked together to the road.

“Heading back toward town?” I inquired.

“No, I'm going farther out. I like to get in eight or nine miles each morning. But I usually stop and look at the lake for a few minutes. There's something about staring at water that's kind of transcendent.”

I nodded politely, all the while thinking to myself,
Eight or nine miles, jeez Louise
. It was yet another reason to be impressed with the otherwise plain and oddly gifted Karen Davidson. “Eight or nine miles, huh. That's not bad. Normally, you know, I do a half marathon before breakfast, but hey.” I paused and made a ­long-­suffering gesture toward Rhett. “We're a team, and you can only go as fast as the slowest member.”

Karen laughed at my teasing bravado. “Thanks, Luke. It was good talking to you this morning. Bring Rhett by the clinic any­­time.”

She trotted off toward the open countryside, and Rhett and I started toward town, although he kept looking back to catch a glimpse of her.

I liked Karen. She was kind and unassuming. But I also feared that her shy manner might make it difficult for her to find a foothold in Watervalley, especially given that she was a female in a profession that for generations the local farmers had known as a male occupation. It wasn't that the people here were ungenerous or mean. They were actually quite the opposite. But I also knew they had a tendency to give newcomers a respectful distance, and ­age-­old frames of reference were sometimes slow to change. It was not a ­mind-­set born out of chauvinism or bigotry, but rather one that was historically cautious toward the new and different. By word of mouth she had won some favorable acclaim for what she had done for Toy McAnders at the ballpark. I hoped that would be a springboard for a broader acceptance. But there were no guarantees.

After arriving home, and I showered, dressed, and got ready for the day. I fed Rhett, took him outside for one last bathroom break, and brought him back in, closing the rear porch door behind me.

Or so I thought.

Shortly after eleven, I received a phone call from Louise Fox, my ­next-­door neighbor.

“Dr. Bradford, can you by chance break away and come home for a few minutes? We have . . .” She paused for a second. “Well, we have something of a situation here.”

“Louise, is everything okay? Is Will hurt?”

“No, Will's fine. He's with some friends at the library.”

“What is it, then?”

“Well, it's Rhett. He seems to have gotten out, and . . . I think I could explain it better if you were here. Can you come?”

“Um, sure. I'll be there in five minutes.” I had no idea what Louise could be referring to, but it didn't matter. If Rhett had gotten out, I needed to go and put him back in the house. I told Nancy I would return shortly and drove quickly to Fleming Street, thinking I would find Louise's garbage cans tumbled over and Rhett wallowing in scattered trash. When I arrived, she was waiting for me in my driveway.

Louise normally had a sweet and pleasant face framed in a frail, accommodating smile. But this morning, her outlook was clearly laced with worry. I parked the car and approached her.

“Hey, Louise. Is everything okay? Which direction did Rhett go?”

“Everything's fine. At least now it is. Rhett's in my backyard, inside the fence.”

“Oh, well, thanks for penning him up till I could get here. No telling where that rascal would have run off to. I must not have properly closed the back door this morning.”

“Well, um, actually, I didn't put him in there.”

“You didn't?”

“No, he got in there himself. Apparently, he jumped the picket fence.”

“He did? Seriously? That's amazing. Rhett has trouble stepping over my shoes. Was Maggie back there?”

“Yes, she was,” Louise said pointedly, her voice assuming a sterner tone.

“Hmm, I guess he was looking for a little company.”

“Well, I can tell you, he found something more than a little company.”

“Louise, I don't understand.”

She exhaled and spoke with both apology and exasperation. “It's like this. Before I left this morning, I put Maggie outside so she could get some exercise. I got here about fifteen minutes ago because I needed to run home from the bakery for something I forgot. When I passed through the kitchen, I saw the two of them in the backyard, all locked up, doing, you know, it.”

I was dumbfounded. “It?”

She looked down, apparently too embarrassed to make eye contact. “Yes, it!”

“You mean, as in it, it?”

After a quick glance, Louise again averted her eyes. “Yes, it, it.”

I stood in openmouthed astonishment. “But how can that be? Will said that Maggie had been fixed.”

“That's what we were told, so I don't understand it either.” Louise nodded. She was openly upset and struggling with a mixture of concern and aggravation.

“Louise, I'­m—­I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say. I'm totally embarrassed by the whole affair.”

Louise dropped her chin and glared at me.

“Oh, sorry. Maybe ‘affair' wasn't the best choice of words.”

She looked at me silently for another moment. Then her severe expression suddenly erupted into a muted laugh. She flipped her hand in an air of resignation. “Oh good heavens, Dr. Bradford, this isn't your fault. If Maggie's not really fixed, I can't blame Rhett for wanting to make her acquaintance.”

“Listen, I'll be glad to pay for Dr. Davidson to check her out.”

“Oh, don't be silly. I can take care of that. Besides, I had no idea Maggie was a woman of such easy virtue.”

“I had no idea Rhett was such a Romeo.”

Louise laughed again, shaking her head. “Truth be told, if it had to happen, I'm glad it was Rhett and not some ­four-­legged traveling man.”

“Louise, this is kind of new territory for me. If something does come of all this, I'd be more than willing to help pay child support. Or, well, puppy support, such as it is.”

Louise placed her hand over her mouth and giggled. “We'll cross that bridge when we get there. I'm sorry. I probably overreacted.” She closed her eyes and made a quick shuddering movement with her head, as if trying to erase the picture of the two lovebirds from her memory. “It was just kind of a shock.”

“Well, let me go gather Rhett up and put him back inside. He'll definitely be in ­time-­out for the next decade.”