A small wiggly dog ran inside and barked at me.
“So, no Zacos?”
Aiden followed, lugging a large bag of dog food. A plastic bag dangled over his shoulder like a purse, the contents clanking noisily.
I met him in the living room and took the heavy bag from his hands. “Did I miss a conversation about adopting a dog?”
He unloaded dog food bowls, a leash, and a few dog toys from the other bag. “Sorry. Long story. He needs a temporary home. It’s for a patient. Shit. I didn’t even ask if you were allergic or hated dogs or anything.”
“It’s fine.” I lugged the dog food into the kitchen, and Aiden followed with the bowls. We filled one with tapwater and the other with some kibble. “But what’s going on, Angel? How did you become a dog sitter?”
He went back into the living room and dropped down on the couch, deflating like a punctured balloon.
“I went out to check on a patient and he was in bad shape. He’s at the hospital. I have to get up there.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
“I don’t know. I gave him some insulin at the scene, so hopefully he’ll recover. But it’s fucked-up, Will. It’s so fucked-up that this even happened.”
I perched on the edge of the cushion next to him and reached out to rub his neck. “What do you mean?”
“It’s just not right. He lives in a rural area. It’s a forty-minute drive to Riverton. I think his truck wasn’t running or something, so he missed a couple of appointments. Those appointments keep him alive because he can’t afford his insulin prescription all the time and the clinic will give him free samples when they can.”
“Ah, shit. That’s a damn shame.”
“Itisshameful,” Aiden said. “I should have checked on him sooner. We shouldn’t have just let him…” He sucked in a breath. “If he’d gone into that coma last night or we’d waited one more day to check on him?—”
I squeezed the nape of his neck. “But that didn’t happen.”
He let out a shaky breath. “It could have, and it’s fucked-up that it’s so easy to fall through the cracks.”
“Yeah. No argument here.”
“We need better health care for rural residents, especially because many of them are living in poverty. They don’t have good health insurance or good transportation. We need to do more.”
“So do more.”
He blinked glazed eyes at me. “I’m just a volunteer at the clinic.”
“For now,” I said. “Not forever. If you care about this, you can be part of the solution.”
“Is there a solution?” he said, sounding sad. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe not a perfect one,” I said. “But you said you need to do more. So do that, at least.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “You’re right. This isn’t okay. There’s got to be more outreach.”
“But for right now, you need to stop beating yourself up. Go see your patient. You’ll feel better.”
The dog whined and jumped up with his paws against Aiden’s knees.
“Aw, I know.” Aiden stroked his head. “You’ll see Larry again soon.”
The dog took his soft tone as permission to jump into his lap. Aiden slumped backward, arms full of wiggly dog trying to lick his chin, and laughed. “Whoa! Okay. It’s okay.”
I smiled. Turned out the pooch was better at cheering him up than me. I reached over and tugged on the dog’s ear, and he bounded into my lap, eating up attention from me.
“Are you sure it’s okay I’m leaving him with you? I can’t do anything for Larry. I just want to be there when he wakes up to reassure him.”
