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At two o’clock, Kerry raffled off the first round of prizes, and Willa told him they were on track to raise the same amount of money as the year before. By four-thirty, the raffle was over, the barbecue was wrapping up, and the bake sale was completely sold out.
By five, the last of the stragglers were filtering out the front doors and Kerry was there locking them right behind them.
“Phew! This was a good one!” she commented.
“Barrett!” That was Willa’s voice. He spun on his heel and quickly moved towards her. She caught sight of him, and his heart sank.
“Barrett, she’s bad, you’ve got to come quickly!” Willa cried.
One of his partners was in the clinic watching over the animals and must have told Willa that Muffin’s time was up. Willa rushed to him, grasped his forearms, and looked into his eyes.
He swallowed at the pain and loss reflected in her gaze.
He swallowed, but he didn’t break her stare.
He absorbed it and took it unto himself.
He watched as she steadied and relaxed her grip on his arms. She turned and tugged his hand, calmer now.
“Come on, Viking, it’s time. I want to be with her, and I need you there with me.”
The first thing he saw when he walked into the surgery was Derry, her eyes damp, sitting with Muffin curled in her lap. As soon as Muffin saw Willa, she wagged her tail weakly and Willa let out a tiny sob.
One of Barrett’s partner’s, Francis, was readying the table and the syringe, her face grim. He nodded at her, and she shook her head in dismay.
“Such a good little doggo,” she murmured. “It’s a shame.”
“It is a damn shame. Do you mind if I take over? Give Willa some privacy?”
Francis nodded firmly. “Absolutely.”
She quickly ran through what she’d done so far and left the room, taking Derry with her.
Francis turned in the doorway. “Barrett, when it’s done, take Willa home. I’ll finish up with Muffin.”
“Thank you, Francis,” he murmured before turning back to Willa.
Willa stroked Muffin’s little head. Tears dripped off Willa’s nose to dampen Muffin’s fur. Willa’s attention didn’t stray from the little dog all the while Barrett explained to her what was going to happen.
He touched Muffin’s leg with a gentle finger. “I’m going to shave her a tiny bit so that I can find her vein. It won’t hurt her.”
He scratched her little ears. She coughed and twitched her tail. Willa sniffed.
“You want to keep her on your lap, curly? Or put her on her blanket on the table?”
“Lap.” Willa’s voice was thick with tears.
“On your lap, that’s fine,” Barrett continued, his voice low and soothing, “occasionally, when a dog is euthanized, they will twitch afterwards, some even defecate. Are you sure you want her on your lap?”
Willa nodded. Barrett turned to grab a plastic sheet and blanket.
“Lift her, curly,” he directed softly.
Willa lifted the little dog up to her face, and kissed her head, pressing her nose between her fluffy ears. She drew in a deep shuddering breath.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you, little girl,” she whispered, “It wasn’t fair and you didn’t deserve it.”
Barrett spread the plastic sheet and the blanket over Willa’s lap and swallowed his anger and his sadness. There wasn’t time for it yet.
