Page 61 of Until Now
“It’s Hunter!” I say.
“We’re coming!” Dominique calls.
When we reach the scene, it hits me like a ton of bricks. Hunter stands over Bing as he sits against a tree. His breathing is labored. It’s hard for him to catch a breath and his face is not the right color. It’s pale. Grayish. He can’t even say a word to us. McFly sits by his human, watching him like a hawk. There’s something wrong with the dog’s leg, but he isn’t crying or whining. His attention is on Bing.
“He’s having trouble breathing!” Hunter says, breaking down. “His inhaler fell from his pocket when he was in the cave getting McFly out! We couldn’t reach it!!”
“Maxen, lift Bing’s head!”
I sit on the ground and do as instructed. Dominique jumps into action, unzipping her fanny pack and pulling out an inhaler. Oh God, she brought one!! Kneeling beside her son, she quickly takes over. He lets her hold the rescue inhaler to his mouth and give him two pumps. His eyes are filled with tears. Mine are too.
His chest relaxes, and he takes the first deep breath.
There’s a reason this parenting thing is easier when two people are doing it. It’s such a huge, complicated job. It requires your heart and soul, your constant attention. Just like every other kind of extraordinary love.
