For the Love of Dog

The first time I saw Austin’s dog, she stood unaccompanied atop a hill near Austin’s house, her body bathed in the orange glow of sunset. She was a golden lab named Ven.

“Isn’t it cool!” Austin exclaimed.

Austin had just picked her up from the pound that day. We were still kids. The social gap between us wasn’t nearly as obvious.

“Yep,” I replied, “she’s brilliant.”

I hung out more with Austin after that day, and, by extension, with Ven. It was fun to pretend that she was mine, at least for a while. I lived just next door, yet my family didn’t have one-tenth of the toys Austin had – blame it on him being an only child with parents that, despite his dad being a doctor and his mother a lawyer, insisted on sending him to public school “to associate with the rabble”, as we used to say, though never to his face. I’d find out later that there simply weren’t any other decent schools in the area nearby.

Austin was the uncontested “it” kid. Simply put, if you were Austin’s friend, you were set – access to the best get-togethers, birthday presents, and Nintendo games. I realized quickly that you don’t need to have an interesting personality to have friends, only money.

To my everlasting shame, I too was a member of the clique that followed Austin like a lost child, hanging onto his every word, laughing at his jokes, et cetera ad nauseum. God, I talk about Austin like he was a cult leader. That wasn’t true, though. Really, he was just a nice guy. But in the same way, I would never consider him to be “one of us.”

Month after month, I begged my parents until they finally caved and decided to buy me a dog. I was elated. This was when I still believed I actually had a chance of matching Austin in some way. Ven had become the highlight of my visits, but she always stuck around Austin. Chalk it up to being more familiar with him, but that didn’t matter now. I would finally have a dog of my own.

But walking through the aisles of the pet store, I got sick. Turns out, I was horribly allergic not only to dogs, but also anything with fur. From then on, my contact with Austin was limited. He took it well. I have no doubt. I was but one of many that he spent time with during the weekends and breaks.

Meanwhile, I was stuck at home with just a tired old iguana named Romeo most of the time. As a fat little member of the lower-middle class with next to no noteworthy characteristics, I wasn’t picky with whom I spent my time. Had we not lived so close to each other, I doubt Austin and I would’ve spent so much time together in the first place.

Romeo died a few months after I got him.

Before I knew it, we were seniors; by then, the difference between Austin and me wasn’t just evident, it was striking. Aside from the fact that he had way more friends than I, he was a top swimmer on the school’s team, and his overall attitude was so pleasant that his election to class president was a landslide.

Though what annoyed me most about him was his grades. They weren’t top of our class, nor were they poor, but somehow, every time, he would score slightly better than I. It was infuriating, working myself to death, only for Austin – who had spent the better part of the week at practice – to swoop in and outdo me. All people are created equal – what a load of malarkey.

Despite all that, I’d still find myself staring through my window at night. Ven would be there, sometimes sleeping, other times running around like a psychopath. I think that above all else, I envied Austin for owning Ven.

It was an uncharacteristically chilly night before graduation – the end of a relatively uneventful time in my life. I’d be going to a bog-standard community college to get high, while Austin would no doubt go to a top-notch school. I was preparing for bed when my phone rang. It was my girlfriend Sarah.

“Curt,” she said, “I’m really-really sorry, but I one-hundred percent need your help with something.” She sounded a little tipsy. “Literally none of my friends are picking up right now.”

“Probably because it’s past midnight,” I said.

“Look, I have to keep things brief right now. I was at a party, and things got… Scheisse! Hey, keep your eyes open!”

If I was tired before, those words sobered me up quickly. I hadn’t been invited to a party Sarah was attending? It sounded weird.

“Sarah? Who are you with?”

“Ugh, God. Just meet me outside your place, okay?”

And she hung up, not even waiting for me to reply. My folks wouldn’t be an issue; they were fast asleep. But what caught me by surprise was the image that greeted me as soon as I opened the door. Sarah – no taller than five-foot four – was dragging a rather tall man by the arm over her shoulder. The only signs of life he exhibited were these onerous, wheezing breaths he slowly let out.

“The hell? What’s wrong with him?”

“No time. Car. Now,” she said, not as a favor, but a command. “Do it quickly, but try not to wake your parents up, if you can help it.”

Confused as I was, I realized that there wasn’t time to waste. This guy didn’t look good. As I went back inside to grab my keys, I noticed Sarah talking to him in a low volume. I couldn’t understand a word, but for some reason, seeing them together frustrated me. At first, I didn’t understand why, but as I came back out with the keys, I understood why.

It was Austin, and his face looked… well, it looked like a tomato.

“Hurry up!” Sarah said, lightly tapping the hood of the car.

“Why are we trying to be quiet about this?” I replied, unlocking the car. Sarah ignored me, instead hoisting Austin into the back, extending his seat as far as it would go.

She, however, got into the driver’s seat. Presumptuous, I thought.

Next door, I could hear Ven barking loudly. She seemed more frantic than usual. “Oh god, that mutt’ll wake my parents up!” They were heavy sleepers, but they weren’t completely deaf.

“Stop complaining! Give me the keys and get your flabby ass in here!”

I sighed. A jab at my weight – classy. My dear, I think I’m falling in love with you all over again.

In hindsight, I probably should have stopped things there, turned around, and told my parents that Sarah was having a panic attack and that Austin needed medical attention. But for some reason, I didn’t. I got in the passenger side, a little space typically reserved for my much shorter sister, but as I moved to shut the door, Ven charged into view, flying into my lap. And as Sarah back up, gravity shut the door. Lo and behold – Ven got me.

Sarah sped out the driveway with hellacious fury, and it seemed like she had no intention of stopping, no matter how much I flailed my arms around. Ven was trying to get to Austin in the back, but he seemed unresponsive, incapable of ameliorating things.

Then, my throat went dry, and my vision was obscured by my increasingly watery eyes. Given the scant amount of wiggle room I had to work with, Ven’s whole body was more or less pressed against my face.

Sarah swore under her breath when she noticed I was having a reaction. It wasn’t anaphylaxis, but it was enough to inspire concern. “You too? Crap. Look, we should be fine. We’re going to the clinic in Hillsdale.”

Hillsdale? That wasn’t right. Sarah knew the area just as well as I did, and there was a hospital at Spring Valley that was just as close. There would be better treatment there. For someone so concerned about her friend, I thought her choice was strange.

But I couldn’t ruminate on it for long, because the moment I decided to voice my insight, Ven stuck her foot in my mouth, using it as a foothold to get past me. Damn loyal dog.

Four things happened after that in quick succession. First, I pushed Ven away. The problem was that there was only one place to easily push her to – Sarah. Second, Sarah, with Ven’s tail slapping her face repeatedly, began to veer the car haphazardly around the street. Thankfully, there weren’t many cars out, but her reckless driving did result in something else. Three, Austin vomited directly onto the back of Sarah’s chair.

Lastly, we crashed.

At least the hospital was only two miles away in the first place. We were basically there when Sarah drove into a ditch. Remarkably, Sarah and I got out with only a bruise or two. In summary, we got lucky.

Austin, on the other hand, broke a leg, a few ribs, and had a mild concussion. The poor guy went through the wringer and then some. He’d get better, though it’d take time.

We were informed that our parents would arrive soon to pick us up, while Austin would be spending the night in the hospital.

After all that, I found myself waiting outside the clinic entrance. It’d be morning soon, though it was still dark as pitch as I went out. The only light came from a few overhead lights, a vending machine, and the streetlights in the parking lot. The entire backside of the clinic was adjacent to a forest, making the area strangely cozy.

Or maybe I was just feeling the effects of the medicine I received. It worked its magic, fixing me up well and good. I wanted to celebrate my rediscovered ability to breathe by letting in the chilly night air. It felt good, distracting myself from the divine retribution my parents would undoubtedly dole out when they saw the damage to their car. I bought bag of chips from the vending machine and found a bench. It’d be some time before I got a ride home.

Sarah came out after a while and sat next to me on the bench. Things were quiet for a bit.

She let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry. This is all my fault. Maybe if I wasn’t drunk, I would’ve remembered you had an EpiPen. Wait, do EpiPens work with different allergies?”

I shrugged. “Not sure, but don’t be so hard on yourself. I was probably the best candidate for preventing this, but I didn’t do anything. If I looked at Austin more carefully, I might’ve noticed he was having a reaction.”

“Speaking of Austin, did you see what happened to Ven? I lost sight of her after we crashed, and Austin seems worried about her.”

I shook my head. “I couldn’t see much with my eyes being jacked up.”

“Ah, yeah. Forgot about that.”

Again, an awkward silence. I reluctantly broke it.

 “Now that we’ve got some time, I have to ask: When were you planning on telling it was over between us?”

Sarah gave a soft laugh, though not one of malice. It sounded more like she was relieved. That probably should have upset me, but I felt nothing, like this whole thing was preordained.

“So,” she said, “you already figured it out, huh? I was hoping to talk about it now, but these kinds of things are hard.”

I offered her my chips, but she declined.

“And I take it there wasn’t any party, was there?” I said.

“Right again. Sorry, I was under a lot of stress at that time, and I didn’t know how you’d react if you knew the truth. You really were the first person I thought would help. I was at Austin’s house. His parents were out, and we’d been seeing each other for a month. I had the bright idea of bringing a bottle of Short’s Pistachio Cream Ale. Turns out, he’s allergic to pistachios. Imagine that.”

“Allow me to deduce what happened next,” I said. “You enlisted me to help him because you couldn’t have his parents find out.”

Sarah’s eyes widened. I was right. I continued.

“At first, I was confused why you weren’t driving to Spring Valley Hospital, but then, I remembered that Austin’s father works there. Sarah, I know you’re not a moron. You wouldn’t risk someone’s life unless you had a good reason. I just want to hear it.”

“God,” she said, “how do I put this delicately? Austin’s parents… they suck.

“Every step in his life, they’d breathe down his neck, offering him rewards as long as he kept studying. It was this huge, messed up system that he was trapped in. He’d tell me about how they once locked him in his room for an entire day – no food, no water – to prepare for his trig exam, since his last test had been just barely an eighty. Another time, when he was younger, they took his favorite toy – a stuffed bear he got from his grandmother – and burned it right in front of him. Do you understand? They made him watch. And why did they do this? Because he didn’t want to be on his neighborhood swim team. They thought that if they took it away, he wouldn’t need to spend as much time playing with it and could do things more productive with his time. And then, there’s-”

“I get it,” I said, putting a hand on her shoulder. She stared at me as I said it again: “I get it.”

“Curt, they threatened to take Ven away if he ever refused them. He loves that dog more than anything, but they didn’t adopt her because they loved their son. They used Ven as a bargaining chip. Christ, it’s so messed up…”

I offered my chips to her, and this time, she took them.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she said. “After what happened tonight – not only drinking alcohol, but also spending time alone with a girl they don’t know – I have doubts that he’ll have a lot of free time in the near future.”

I expelled a long breath of air. That was a lot to take in all at once.

“So that’s that, huh?” I said.

“Yeah. I suppose it is.”

“You know, you shouldn’t eat those. Don’t mean to sound insensitive, but you’re kinda fat, babe.”

That was a lie of course. Frankly, I had no idea how I ever landed a date with her in the first place. She was way out of my league when it came to looks. It was strange how I never really recognized that until now.

“You, sir,” she said smiling, “are a genuine dork. You know that?”

“And you are a lascivious temptress, my lady.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

We parted on good terms that night. She apologized once before she left, and at that, I told her, “Sarah, darling, did you really think we’d last? I enjoy your company, but not once did I think this thing between us would continue past high school, no offense. That’s how young love goes ninety percent of the time.”

Yet even as I said that, I had to wonder if it was my pessimism that drove her away in the first place.

A short way beyond the dim light of the clinic entrance, I heard a low rustling. It was behind some foliage near the clinic. Muted footsteps shuffled up to me, and I could sense who it was even before they fully appeared. It was Ven.

She hobbled up to me, staring into me with those forlorn eyes. I’d never seen her so tired. I hadn’t realized how old she’s been getting.

Against my better judgement, I picked Ven up. She seemed lighter now.

“Come on, girl,” I said. “Let’s go meet Austin.”

The following day, our class was surprised when Austin appeared in a wheelchair and gave his speech in such a slurred voice that it was almost incomprehensible. The faculty liked it, though, since to an outsider, it made them look like they cared about mentally disadvantaged youths. Regardless, it was a speech to remember.