Page 7 of So Twisted

Michael cleared his throat. “Hey guys. Sorry to be the third wheel, but I do have to try to keep down dinner later, so save the gory details for late-night texts.”

David grinned. “Oh, like you haven’t heard it all before.”

“Okay,” Faith said, clapping her hands. “What a lovely and incredibly awkward conversation this has become. David, we have to reschedule the rest of Turk’s checkup for another time.”

“I figured. I was just doing the physical fitness test, and we both know he’s going to ace that one.” He shifted his feet a little. “Hey, before you go, Faith, I need to talk to you about something.”

Faith frowned. “Sure. What is it?”

David glanced at Michael. Michael cleared his throat and said, “Um, I’m gonna take Turk to the car and look for a good hotel in Council Bluffs.”

“Get one in Omaha,” David advised. “It’s a bigger city, so the hotels are nicer.”

Michael tilted his head. “Didn’t realize that’s how it usually worked, but I’ll take your advice. Come on, Turk.”

Turk hesitated a moment when Faith didn’t follow. “Go on, boy. I’ll be right there.”

Turk dipped his head and followed Michael out of the hospital. When the door closed behind them, Faith turned to David and asked, “Okay, what is it?”

David shifted his feet again. “Something came up on one of Turk’s tests.”

A chill ran down Faith’s spine. “Something came up?”

“Yes. On the sensory test. Specifically, his sense of smell.”

Faith’s heart was beating faster now. Sensory degradation was often a sign of age-related problems in dogs. It wasn’t usually the first sign, though. That was typically arthritis or other joint problems followed by digestive issues. Why would Turk have issues with his sense of smell?

“What kind of something came up?”

“Well… he didn’t do so well.”

“Can you expand on that?”

David sighed. “I can pull up the results on my computer.”

“Or you can just tell me now and stop tiptoeing around the issue.”

David sighed again. “He missed three of five identification tests and was unable to locate an object hidden among other odors after being given the scent.”

Faith folded her arms across her chest. Her training told her it was an instinctual defensive action. It really bothered her that she knew that. “Okay. So what does that mean?”

“It might not mean anything. It could just be a fluke. It could be that we didn’t contain or reveal the scents properly. But… it could also mean that his sense of smell is compromised.”

“What do you mean compromised?”

“Basically what I said. “His sense of smell might not be up to snuff anymore.”

Faith looked away, her lips pushed out nearly in a pout.

“Like I said, it might not be serious. Protocol in this case is that we wait three weeks and conduct the test again with different odors for both tests. If he passes that retest, then he passes the sensory test, and everything’s hunky dory. And if not, well… we knew this day was coming.”

Faith whirled on him. “Excuse me?”

David realized his mistake too late. He blinked and took a step back. “I… I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant that—”

“That I should consider my dog’s eventual death inevitable and not be concerned with health problems he has?”

"No," he said firmly. "Close to the opposite in fact. I meant that you should be prepared to pull him from the field if he fails. I don't need to tell you how serious it is if a K9's sense of smell is compromised."

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