Part 2
“The cancer has spread,” Dr. Hsu said. The specialist had reviewed the tests with him, and removing the diseased leg would not remove the disease. He wanted to talk through Gus’s comfort, the burden of further treatment, and what Ruth could manage at home.
She pulled out the workroom chair. One of its vinyl corners had split, exposing foam the color of bread crust. She put her thumb over the split while the veterinarian explained what he knew and what he could not predict.
“Are you telling me to do it today?”
“I’m telling you we can’t cure him. From what you’ve described, he’s comfortable this morning. We can care for that, and reassess. I don’t want you waiting for a date on a calendar if his comfort changes.”
They had already discussed palliative care when the shoulder images first raised concern. Now Ruth agreed to it. They went over the medicines he had prescribed, how to reach him after hours, and the changes that meant she should call promptly. He asked her to describe Gus’s breathing, sleep, appetite, and ability to get outside, rather than give the morning a single grade.
“And the giraffe?” Ruth asked.
“Does he seem to enjoy being there?”
“He falls asleep.”
“Then a short, easy visit may still be something he enjoys. Provided his own comfort allows it. No obligation to finish the visit.”
She agreed to a follow-up call the next day. Before they hung up, Dr. Hsu asked who could help her at home with a dog Gus’s size. Ruth said her daughter lived nearby, which answered the question about distance.
Outside, Elena had put the new cover onto its pad. Mabel remained on the bedding. Gus was awake now, licking a flattened place on his front leg.
Ruth stopped at the staff-yard gate. “We won’t be doing surgery.”
Elena set down the empty cover bag. She waited while Ruth said the rest, and then she came into the yard and sat on the bench. She didn’t touch Gus or tell Ruth what her own dog had died of.
“I’ll take you off Friday,” she said.
“Leave the sewing. I can come by myself.”
“All right.”
Ruth crouched beside the bed, with one hand on the bench to spare her knees. Gus smelled her wrist and tried to lick the inside of her elbow. He had never liked the lotion she used after handling fabric all day, and he appeared determined to remove it.
She let him work until he lost interest. Then she called Elena over to help her steady him while he stood. Mabel lifted her head at the movement, but Elena stayed with Ruth and the dog until Gus was safely through the yard gate.
At home, Ruth spread the nonslip runners they had bought after his first bad week. She checked the medicine sheet and called the clinic with a question she had forgotten. Gus drank, went outside, and returned to the cool tile beside the kitchen cabinets. She sat at the table where she could see him and took the refuge invoice out of her bag.
Leah arrived carrying a carton of soup and a grocery bag. She worked at a dental office across town and came in still wearing her scrubs, with a pen caught in her ponytail. Gus’s tail swept the floor when she knelt beside him.
“I swapped Tuesday morning,” she told Ruth. “Sharon’s covering. I can go with you.”
Ruth looked down at the invoice. She had told Leah the results appointment was next week. At the time, she had wanted to get through one telephone call without answering questions she hadn’t yet asked herself.
“You don’t need to switch anything.”
“It’s done. You said they’d discuss the options.”
Ruth slid the invoice beneath the medicine sheet. Leah glanced at the movement, then read the clinic’s number at the top of the page. She sat back on her heels.
“Did they call?”
Ruth nodded.
Leah kept one hand on Gus’s neck while Ruth explained. She asked two questions about his comfort and another about the follow-up. Then she rose, put the soup into the refrigerator, and stood with the door open longer than necessary.
“Close that,” Ruth said automatically.
Leah closed it. The grocery bag remained on the counter between them.
“I wasn’t trying to keep it from you.”
“You told me next week.”
“I thought I’d know what to say by then.”
Leah looked toward the dog. His eyes were half shut, his back foot resting on the edge of a runner they had laid together. When her father was alive, she used to bring Gus the crust from her breakfast sandwich on Saturday mornings. Tom pretended to disapprove and tore his own sandwich in half.
Ruth started to tell her about Mabel lying down. It had been a real thing, a good thing. She wanted her daughter to have it before the rest of the day crowded it out.
“Mom.” Leah’s voice stopped her. “I called from the parking lot this morning. You let me talk about taking him to the lake when his leg was better.”
Ruth remembered the call. She had said they would see, and Leah had taken that as permission to keep planning. Ruth had let the conversation end while there was still something pleasant in it.
“I didn’t have the results then.”
“But you knew they were coming today.”
Gus moved in his sleep and pushed the runner crooked with his heel. Ruth got up to straighten it. Leah stepped aside, giving her room to kneel, but when Ruth finished she remained standing at the counter.
“How many calls have there been that you haven’t told me about?”
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