Page 99 of Until Joy

She scrunched up her face in concentration. “Under something?”

“Exactly. Let's check under all the chairs.”

“You don’t have to do this,” her mother said as her toddler started to cry.

“It’s fine,” I assured the mother. “I’m on animal wrangling today.” I gave her my best smile, the one I saved for Joy. The mom grinned back at me.

Bingo!

“Thanks so much.” She turned to her toddler and attempted to quiet him down while I focused on Madison and our search.

For the next ten minutes, I found myself crawling around the waiting room on my hands and knees, searching for a gerbil while Madison directed the operation like a tiny general.

“There!” She pointed under the reception desk. “I see his tail!”

Sure enough, a small brown blur was huddled in the corner, looking overwhelmed by all the noise and activity.

“Prince Peanut!” Madison dropped to her knees beside me. “Come here, Prince.” He stayed exactly where he was.

“Let me try something.” I reached slowly toward the gerbil, making soft clicking sounds. “Sometimes they respond to gentle noises.”

The little rodent twitched his whiskers, then scampered straight into my palm like we'd been friends for years.

“You did it!” Madison clapped her hands as I carefully transferred the prince back into his cage. “Are you a gerbil whisperer?”

“Something like that,” I grinned.

Her mother mouthed “thank you” over Madison's head while double-checking the cage latch.

I was dusting off my knees when another crisis erupted near the front door. A little boy, maybe six years old, was sobbing like his world had ended while his father knelt beside him with the patience of a saint.

“Buddy, the shot won't hurt that much. It's just a little pinch. I promise.”

“I don't want Buster to get a shot!” The boy's face was red and streaked with tears. “What if it hurts him?”

I looked at the puppy in question, a cute golden retriever with floppy ears. The dog was wagging his tail and trying to lick everyone within reach, completely oblivious to his owner's distress.

“Mind if I try?” I asked the father.

“Please. We've been at this since we left the house.”

I crouched down next to the boy, who was clutching his puppy like a lifeline.

“What's your name?”

“Tyler.” He sniffled, not looking at me, his focus all on his puppy.

“That's a good name. Strong name. And this is Buster?”

Tyler nodded, burying his face in golden fur.

“Can I tell you a secret about shots, Tyler?”

He peered at me with red-rimmed eyes.

“I used to be in the Navy, and I had to get lots of shots to keep me healthy when I traveled to different countries. You know what I learned?”

“W-what?”