An hour later, he was in Exam 1, finishing a chart after a patient had gone home, when a big yellow Lab mix wandered in. The dog sat at Caleb’s feet.
“Hi, buddy. Where are your people?”
Rachel ran in then. “Sorry, Dr. Fitch. He got away from me.”
“Is this your dog?”
“No. Dr. Francis took him in last night. Someone left him tied up outside with a note saying they couldn’t take care of him anymore.”
Caleb knelt beside the dog and pet his ears. The dog barked happily and licked Caleb’s face. Caleb laughed despite his sour mood. “Well, you seem friendly enough. Why would someone leave you?”
“It happens,” said Rachel. “We get pets left here periodically, usually either by older people who don’t have the energy to look after them anymore or, more often, people moving into apartments that don’t allow pets. And because there aren’t really any other clinics in Brooklyn that are open all night; we get a lot of the abandoned pets here.”
“My old practice got a few. Mostly boxes of kittens people found on the street. Usually not big friendly dogs.” The dog licked Caleb’s face again and he laughed. “You house-trained, buddy? Wanna go for a walk?”
At the W-word, the dog perked up even more.
“The note said the dog’s name is Hank.”
“Hank?” Caleb asked the dog. He was rewarded with another face-lick. “Well, that’s a good sturdy name. Do we have any leashes? I can take him for a quick trip around the block.”
“Yeah, sure, there are a couple in the drawer at the reception desk. I’ll get you one.”
Caleb shrugged out of his white coat and returned to the reception area, where Rachel handed him a leash and a little container with biodegradable pet waste bags.
Hank was definitely house-trained. He acted like a dog who knew exactly what he was supposed to do, including barking at every other dog they passed on the street. Caleb was mystified about how anyone could abandon such a big, friendly dog. Hank was big for a Lab, sure, so he’d be a lot for a small apartment. But his tongue lolled out of his mouth, and he trotted around the block, pausing to do his business near a tree, and then resuming his happy gait.
When Caleb returned, Hank barked at the Cat Café. “Good boy,” Caleb said as he reached down to rub Hank’s ears.
Back inside the clinic, Caleb let Hank off the leash, and Hank flopped down in front of the reception desk.
“What’s the procedure for adopting animals?” Caleb asked.
“Well, we usually keep them here for a couple of days in the kennels in back, and we’ll put signs up out front saying we’ve got an animal for adoption, but if nobody takes the animal, we find a shelter. If it’s a cat, Lauren usually takes them, but for dogs and other pets, there’s a no-kill shelter in Park Slope we work with.”
“Okay.”
“Unlessyouwant to adopt him.”
Caleb couldn’t help but think of his old dog Jimmy, the one Kara had gotten in the divorce. His new place in Brooklyn Heights was still a bit underfurnished and sterile, and a dog would certainly liven things up. On the other hand, he put in long hours here at the clinic. A dog like this would need a lot of attention.
“I mean,” said Rachel, “this is the kind of dog you get when you’re on the rebound from a bad breakup. Just saying.”
Caleb looked at her.
“Sorry. Olivia told me you just got divorced.”
“I did. And you’re probably right. He seems like a good dog. But I don’t know if I’m ready to take on a dog just yet. Ijustmoved to Brooklyn. I haven’t even finished furnishing my apartment yet.”
“It was a bad breakup, wasn’t it?”
“She left me for a younger guy and ran off to California after abruptly closing the clinic we owned together without consulting me, so yeah, it was pretty bad.”
Rachel’s eyes went wide. “Well, geez. That’s shitty.”
Caleb barked out a laugh. “To understate things.”
“But, see, this dog may be just what you need.” Rachel and Hank both looked at him with big puppy dog eyes.
