Drawing in one more long breath, she composed herself. “What’s next?”
“If you want to proceed with the biopsy, we’ll look at the calendar and schedule her. I would suggest doing it sooner rather than later.”
“You’re the expert. If you say she needs it, then let’s do it.”
Chapter Two
Aaron Bradley fell into his recliner for a chance to finally relax at ten p.m. after a long day. After working extra hours at the office, he’d rushed home to pick up the cat for her vet appointment. Then he’d rushed home to drop her off before he hurried to make it to the Wednesday night prayer meeting on time. On his way home, a buddy called who had run out of gas and needed help.
Once he got home, he had to feed the cat, clean out the litter box, and run the trash up to the road for pickup tomorrow. He didn’t mind helping his parents—goodness knew they’d done enough for him—but Fifi kept him up crying all night. If it continued, he’d stay at his parents’ house until they came home in hopes the familiar surroundings would soothe her.
And next time, his sister Catelyn could take Fifi duty.
His mind drifted and conjured images of the woman he’d met at the vet, Rachel. She was cute, in a bookish sort of way. Her large glasses were too large for her slim face, yet they worked for her and couldn’t hide her green eyes with golden flakes. When he’d stood right next to her, he was surprised her height reached his shoulders. From a distance, she’d appeared shorter in stature.
While her physical appearance gave a studious impression, her attitude reflected a fun and whimsical side. He’d stood back a brief second watching her interact with Roxie before offering her help. The close bond between human and dog reminded him of his own bond with his late Chance, a shepherd mix his parents had adopted when Aaron was still in high school.
Chance chose Aaron as his person, and the family agreed Chance would go with Aaron when he moved out after college. They’d gone everywhere together—road trips, conferences, even a wedding for his buddy who ran an animal rescue and invited guests to bring their pets.
That turned into an interesting night when someone showed up with an alpaca, another with a pig, and the ornithologist who came with her macaw. By some miracle, all the animals got along except for an untrained spaniel who wouldn’t stop chasing the other creatures until the owners were politely asked to restrain him or leave.
Man, he missed having a dog, but he wasn’t ready to adopt one, not yet. Chance’s death hit him hard, and a year later, it still hurt to think about him. Chance had lived a good life though. Despite having a leg amputated when he was twelve, he’d adjusted well and lived another four years.
Reminiscing about his dog made Aaron think about the blog he’d begun five years ago when Chance had his surgery. At the time, he hadn’t found many resources on tripod dogs online, and chronicling his and Chance’s experience helped him through the ordeal. Because of the blog, he’d met many other pet owners who also had a three-legged fur friend, and the site had morphed into a community for pet owners to come together and share resources and tips to help their animals cope.
Since Chance died, he’d largely stayed away from the blog. He’d hired an admin to keep it running, but a strong prodding to log on tonight pressed upon his heart. He grabbed his tablet from the end table and entered his credentials.
Starting with the photos, he browsed through the pages. A few updates made him smile. Even the sad ones memorializing a pet who’d crossed the rainbow bridge brought him joy because they were reminders of the love and affection a pet brings.
He read through several of the contact forms, pleased with the responses Kendra, his admin, provided. God had brought him the exact person who needed to fill that position. She had a love for all things living, both animals and people, and her compassionate responses reflected that virtue.
A new message popped up in the box. Curious, he opened it.
Hello,
I’ve never messaged a blog, but I received a scary diagnosis on my dog today. She’s had a lump on her leg that grew suddenly. I took her in to the vet today thinking it was a cyst, but the doctor told me he thinks it could be cancer.
Honestly, I’m terrified. Roxie’s been with me for a long time, and even if it sounds silly, she’s my best friend. I can’t imagine life without her.
The doctor thinks that even if it’s cancer, she’ll still be fine, but it might require amputation. Roxie is in good health otherwise, but she is ten and has a touch of arthritis. I’m worried about her quality of life if she loses a front leg at this stage.
I’ve been researching online all night and came across this blog. I’ve been reading through the stories and advice, and they’ve encouraged me. Roxie has her biopsy first thing tomorrow, and I can rest easier knowing that whatever the results show, she can still go on to have a happy life.
All that to say, thank you for creating this blog. While I hope the results are negative and I won’t have to return for advice and encouragement, I’m glad that this blog exists.
Aaron closed his eyes and let out a contented sigh. These are the emails that encouraged him to keep his blog going, even when he had minimal involvement. He prayed briefly for Roxie and her owner. The possibility of a loved one facing cancer wasn’t easy, whether animal or human.
Roxie—wasn’t that the name of Rachel’s dog? Could this be her? A flicker of strange emotions channeled through him. Lots of people named their dog Roxie. The chances this could be Rachel were slim, but he wanted it to be. He’d been drawn to her, wished he could see her again.
Holding his breath, he clicked on the sender’s details. The message came from the email [email protected]. A matching first initial continued his hope, but he didn’t have much to work with. Or did he?
He typed HopeHouseMD into the search bar of the browser and waited for the results to pull up. A smile took over his mouth when he saw the domain belonged to a local women’s shelter. He should have put two and two together—his church had collected towels and washcloths for them last year.
Though he had good reason to believe this message came from the same lady he’d met at the vet earlier, he didn’t have confirmation. Would it be weird to browse the pages of Hope House for staff members? He pursed his lips and shook his head, not having peace in his heart.
Fifi jumped in his lap, demanding attention. He set the tablet aside and let the cat rest on his chest. The ball of fluff purred until she fell asleep. If she stayed like this all the time, he wouldn’t mind her as much, but give it fifteen minutes and she’d be awake and making demands again.
For now, he’d enjoy the peace. He ran a hand gently over her downy soft fur. Pampered and temperamental though she be, Aaron couldn’t help liking the cat even though he grumbled about her.
