The Same Place (The Lamb and the Lion #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,65
with animals. And he’s a softie, too. There’s no way he’s going to let us leave until he at least takes a look at Toby. Would that be all right with you? I mean, please, Wanda, do me a favor here, or this guy’s going to be crying on my shoulder the whole ride home.”
“Have you tried anti-inflammatory supplements?” Tean said.
“Course,” Wanda snapped. Then, more softly, “Just glucosamine.”
“Well, that sounds like a good place to start. I’d like to take a look at him, but I could recommend some foods you could include in his diet, and I could prescribe something for pain and inflammation. It’s a generic, the one I’m thinking of, so it won’t break the bank.”
“Let’s go inside and take a look,” Jem said. “How about that?”
Toby Keith was perhaps the fattest Basset hound that Tean had ever seen. He was also perhaps the most adorable. He howled for a while, just pure excitement, and then the howling turned to pleased groans and moans as Tean sat down in the cramped living room and petted the dog. He got Toby settled and began an abbreviated examination, checking the joints, speaking quietly to Toby—just nonsense, the kinds of things that sounded soothing, things you picked up after doing the job long enough. When Tean looked up, he was surprised to see Jem staring at him, those blue-gray eyes unreadable.
“My main concern is his weight,” Tean said. “He’s certainly suffering from a degree of arthritis, but I think he’d be more comfortable if he were at his ideal weight. I bet this guy loves treats. Is that right?”
“Lord,” Wanda said. “You should see Toby when I get the Cheez Whiz.”
Tean laughed. “Ok, well, I’ll write down some healthier alternatives you can use as treats, and then I’ll make a list of some dog food brands that are a good choice for this breed and for joint problems. Unless—do you make his food?”
“Sometimes. It’s a lot of work.”
“Well, I’ll put down some options, things you can mix into dry food, that might help with the inflammation. The main thing is going to be portion control, treats, and then starting him on Novox.” Tean took the pad out of his bag, wrote out a scrip, and handed the piece of paper to Wanda. She was still staring at them. In the harsh indoor lighting, the crags and wrinkles looked even deeper; her eyes were black and shining.
“You boys aren’t police,” she said.
Jem glanced at Tean.
“No,” Tean said. “We’re not. We’re looking for someone who went missing. We’re afraid she’s hurt.”
“Joy Erickson.”
“You knew she was missing?” Jem asked.
“I know her car. I wondered why she hadn’t come to pick it up.” Wanda hesitated. Then, with what looked like some difficulty, she got down on her knees and stroked Toby’s head. “Head toward the gate like you’re leaving, and then turn right, keeping up against the wall. It’s a powder-blue Plymouth. Can’t miss it.”
“And you got your days wrong; it came in the seventeenth, not the eighteenth. Don’t go breaking the windows or messing with anything.”
“Of course not.”
“He’s going to go pretty soon, isn’t he?” she said quietly, stroking Toby’s head. The Basset was crooning with pleasure.
“I hate to make any promises without a more thorough exam,” Tean said, “but aside from the arthritis, he seems healthy and happy.”
“I haven’t taken him to a vet since he was a year old. The damn fool did something with the needle—giving him a shot—and Toby yelped like you wouldn’t believe. The poor thing trembled the whole way home. I cried for hours.” Wanda’s hand slowed on Toby’s head, the strokes gentle now. “Never took him back. I thought I was doing him a favor, keeping him away from a dry drunk with shaky hands. But I wasn’t, was I? I could have kept an eye on his weight. I could have given him that medicine a long time ago.”
“We all try to protect the things that we love,” Tean said. “Sometimes, like with the shot, they get hurt and don’t understand why we’re doing it.”
“And sometimes we do the wrong thing,” Wanda said, “because we want so bad to keep them safe.”
“Yes,” Tean said, “I guess sometimes we do.”
They left her and headed out into the night. As they paced along the corrugated metal wall, the smell of rust and gravel and antifreeze followed them.