Jovan
Sometimes wishes came true.
I’d dreamed of talking to the young man I helped all those years ago, hoping to hear from his own lips that he had recovered completely and was doing well in life. No, his life in general and how it was going did not relate to a few hours of care from me and the hospital staff, but he’d been so sweet, so vulnerable… I hated any thought that life might not have been kind to him.
Zoe and I went to the park that evening with no plan for more than to let her see her friends and run around for a bit. Even with the dog walkers, it wasn’t the same as going together. The first few times, her size had a few other owners asking me if she was all right to be around all the other dogs, but not only did I know for sure just how sweet she was, we’d done some training courtesy of the rescue. Zoe had been a popular girl there, and she was no less adored at the dog park.
The rest of the park generally had a good number of visitors, and tonight was no exception. Sitting on the bench inside the dog park, I chatted with Miss Emily, an elderly poodle owner and dog mom to Zoe’s bestie, and Arthur, a teenage boy who brought the family dog, a shaggy mix of I didn’t know what whenever he didn’t have basketball practice.
I had to admit, it soothed my soul to come here. The dogs usually got along well and the occasional kerfuffle was easily settled. The regulars showed up, and we all watched our dogs play. Simple. Relaxing. And a piece of normal the ER didn’t offer.
But the sandwich I’d eaten several hours ago and the protein bar had long since worn off, and the growling I was hearing wasnot from any of the dog park pups. “I guess I’d better go.” Saying goodbye to my friends, I stood up and gave a whistle. “Come on, Zoe. Let’s head for home and dinner.”
She didn’t know many words, or at least I didn’t think she did, but “dinner” was definitely one of them. Before I finished the word, she’d dropped the toy she was playing with and shot over to the gate.
“That’s my girl.” I held out her leash, prepared to hook it onto her collar, when someone opened the gate from outside. I didn’t expect her to move; it wasn’t the first time she’d had an opportunity to run, and until now, she’d just waited while I got her leashed.
This time, however, she scooted around the lady holding her Pomeranian and shot like a rocket across the park.
“Zoe!” I was too shocked to move for a few seconds, then the Pom lady blocked me, but after a few moves to the left and right in the wrong order, stopping each other from getting anywhere, I was past her and tearing across the grass in the direction I’d last seen my dog. The park was busy enough, I’d lost sight of her for the moment, but what choice did I have?
I continued to run, hoping to catch up, panic starting to set in. Where had she gone? And why? Zoe loved all people, all dogs, and showed zero interest in cats. A squirrel maybe? It would be new, but didn’t all dogs like squirrels for chasing? In movies they did. “Zoe! Get back here, you bad bad dog.” No treats tonight. When I got her home, she would have dinner and go right into her crate.
And then I saw her. “What is in your mouth?” She wasn’t too far away, and she was carrying…a stuffie? “Zoe, that’s not your baby!”
Of course she had to bring it to show me, and despite my first fear that she’d mugged a toddler, it turned out that the owner of the dog was someone I’d never expected to see again.
I couldn’t believe it was him. The teen who’d been so badly injured his life had been at risk. And he looked good. Straight, tall, the scarring that showed where he’d fold his sleeves up to reveal his forearms. After we returned the stuffie with Zoe’s apologies, I should have said goodbye then, that I had to go home and feed the dog, but somehow I couldn’t bring myself to say the words.
Instead, I said, “It’s nice to see you looking so well. I’m sorry about the coffee. Can Zoe and I buy you another to replace it?” I shrugged. “That is unless you aren’t willing to forgive a girl who made a mistake.”
“Not forgive? Her name is Zoe?” He bent down and ruffled her ears. “She didn’t hurt Pup-Pup, did you, girl? No, you didn’t.” Returning his attention to me, he went on, “But you don’t have to buy me another coffee. It was an accident, and you probably need to get home. Or are you still working nights at the hospital?”
“Not the same one as we met at, but no, most of the time I’m on days. Actually, I was just going to go home and eat dinner, but there’s a café just a couple of blocks away where they have great coffee, good sandwiches on beautiful bread, and dogs are allowed on the patio.”
He grinned. “Sold, then, I guess. I really did want the coffee.”
“You hear that, Zoe?” I stroked her silky brown head. “Coffee is sacred, and you aren’t allowed to take other people’s babies.”
We walked down the street, talking a little bit about the weather and other things near strangers might discuss. But when we were seated on the café patio with our coffees, my grilled cheese and tomato sandwich and Ernie’s pastry, the conversation grew more personal. Ernie rolled up his pant leg to show me the scar that had been gushing blood when I released the tourniquet the EMTs had applied.
“That’s not bad at all.” I traced the line from just above his ankle to his knee, paler than the rest of the skin but not much more to show he’d nearly lost his life. They’d had to cut him out of the car, and he’d been touch and go. “Yes, looks good. Do you have any issues from the injuries?”
“I don’t, really. But it took a while before I could say that. The doctors after you were transferred said without you, I’d have been taking a dirt nap that night.”
“The doctors said ‘dirt nap’?” I tried to think who he might have spoken with. Because I’d been so new, I didn’t have a lot of connections, but that wasn’t exactly what you’d say to a patient.
“No.” He laughed, eyes sparkling with good humor. “But they did say you saved my life. So, thank you. I’m really glad to have the chance to see you and express my gratitude.”
“You’re most welcome.”
“And not just for saving me.” He held up his bag in which Pup-Pup was carefully stowed out of sight. “This little guy was something to hold on to. Comfort and, I don’t know, a good luck charm? All through the treatments, surgery recovery, physical therapy, I had him with me. I’ve had him ever since.”
“Until Zoe made a move on Pup-Pup.” I fixed a ferocious stare on my dog who looked absolutely unconcerned, still licking the saucer that had held a generous squirt of whipped cream. “Naughty girl.”
“She’s fine. No harm done.” He petted her again, and she leaned into his touch. “Do you take good care of your baby at home, too?”
“She does. But hers doesn’t look like your stuffed dog, so not sure what this was about.”
