For Bear Part One
Harold's Dog
John Reese, John Randolph was the name he’d given the receptionist, sat in the waiting room of the small veterinary clinic that welcomed new patients, no appointment necessary. Bear lay listless at his feet. The Malenois hadn’t eaten enough these two past months to keep a small terrier alive let alone a dog his size. Then two days ago Bear had just stopped eating altogether.
When Bear’s name was called, John followed the veterinary assistant to an examination room, Bear feebly rising and walking alongside. Once in the room the tech asked John to take a seat if he wanted to. John wasn’t in the chair but a second before the dog was lying down again at his feet.
The tech looked at John sympathetically and told him, “I need to get his weight and draw some blood.”
Before John could get out a word of warning the tech had scooped Bear up in his arms and stood him on the scale. In well-practiced efficiency the weighing was done and Bear was placed on a large stainless steel exam table.
Another few minutes the blood was drawn, and the tech was gone with a, “The vet will be in shortly, as soon as the preliminary blood-work is done; we do it right here in the clinic.”
All John could do after the tech had left was reach over and stroke the dog’s head as he again lay lethargic and spiritless there on the table.
He chuckled humorlessly, “You would have tried to take that guy’s hand off two months ago for doing that. You would have, if he had touched Harold.”
The dog whined at Harold’s name.
‘Damn, why did I say Harold?’ “Hey buddy, I miss him too, I’m so sorry.”
For the next thirty minutes John just stroked the dog’s head and every so often would whisper, “I’m sorry.”
The veterinarian knocked politely and entered the room. “I have Bear’s tests back,” she told John in a good news bad news sort of way.
“Of course these tests are just preliminary and I can have other more specific ones done if you would like, but the tests we just ran show nothing abnormal. He is underweight for a dog his size but not too underweight for the length of time you say he’s had no appetite. I am just concerned it will escalate if we can’t get him to eat soon.”
“Hey, Bear, I’m just going to look you over, okay?” The vet set the file she had been looking at on a side cabinet and started looking in the dog’s ears, nose, and mouth.
She finished her exam, patted Bear, and then pulled up the other vacant chair to speak to John face to face.
“I know I am young, but my father was a vet for years. This practice was his, before I took it over, so I was practically raised here. I have seen it before. Some of my colleagues would scoff at the idea, but I think Bear has lost the will to live. Owners die, a beloved pet grieves itself to death. I only ask this for Bear’s health, has he lost someone?”
“My partner… he…I….”
When John couldn’t continue, she misconstrued it for his own grief, condoling him and questioning too, “Oh I’m so sorry, how long ago?”
“Oh no, he didn’t…we broke up, two months ago, due to my own stupidity, I don’t…I don’t know where he is. He left Bear with me; he was always my dog to Harold.” John drew in a heavy sigh, “I guess he never realized whose dog Bear really was.”
The vet looked at him, sympathy in her eyes, “You said you broke up two months ago. Bear quit eating altogether two days ago. Can you think of anything that happened two days ago, something you did with Bear you hadn’t done in the two months prior?“
“I took him to a dog park where we all three used to go. Bear perked up when he recognized where we were. I sat on ‘our’ bench while Bear played with a friend of his. Bear seemed to back to his normal self for a while. When his friend and her owner left, I leashed him up to leave. I had to order him to come. When we got back to my loft, he just collapsed on his bed. He hasn’t eaten a thing since.”
“This may sound crazy Mr. Randolph; dogs don’t understand death, breakups, divorce like we do. People are there then they are gone and don’t come back. When you took Bear to a place he associated with your partner and you two left without him, to Bear he was never coming back. She looked at him quizzically, "I know it sounds crazy.”
“I can order more tests if you want, if you want to rule out the physical. I can give you some medications that may stimulate his appetite. But I think for Bear, you need to find his Harold, soon.”
John believed her; he didn’t know how he would, but he would find Harold. He had to. He couldn’t let their dog die, too. Not like his and Harold’s new life together had…..
~*~
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
For Bear
Chapter Five