Page 20 of For the Love of Scott
Scott looks at him, blinks. He has the vet on speed dial?
“She’s a client,” he says, as if able to read Scott’s mind. Scott hears the barely there answer from the other end of the connection. “Doc, I’ve got a dog emergency—a long-haired Chihuahua—” He looks at Scott. “How old?”
“Um…six. He’s six.”
“Six years old. Unconscious. We’re not sure what happened, we just found him.”
Ben listens and nods. “Will do. Thanks, Doc. See you when we get there.
“We need a board and a towel or a blanket.”
Scott nods and clambers to his feet. He immediately stumbles and collapses because his legs have gone numb from sitting on them.
“Easy there, kimosabe,” says Ben. “Sit for a minute, straighten your legs. I saw a pile of blankets in the kennel. Be right back.”
Scott shifts to sit on his hind end with his legs sticking straight out and the blood flows back to his feet—foot. He hisses at the painful tingle he feels, seemingly, in both feet. Sylvester still hasn’t moved, save the slight rise and fall of his body. Scott’s eyes and nose burn, and he scrunches his eyes closed.Please, oh, please, oh, please, let him live. He can’t die. He just can’t. ‘Cause if he does—No. He shakes his head.
Ben returns and kneels next to Scott and Sylvester. “Hey…”
Scott looks up into Ben’s big blue eyes.
“I’m here, okay? I’m here.”
“Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t.”
Ben pats his leg. “You would’ve done what needed doing. It’s fine.” Gently, slowly, carefully, Ben shifts Sylvester onto the section of organizer shelving he’d taken from the storeroom. Sylvester remains limp and unmoving.
Ben stands and holds out his hands to Scott. When Scott places his hands in Ben’s, he’s tugged upright.
“Can you manage the doors?” Ben asks.
“Yeah. Sure. Doors.” Scott nods jerkily.
Ben picks up the shelf with Sylvester’s still little body wrapped in a blanket on it. They make their way back out to the kennel truck and Scott climbs in the passenger seat and puts on his seat belt. Ben sets the shelf on his lap. “Where’re the keys?”
“Here.” He slaps them into Ben’s palm. The only reason Scott had known where they were is because they’d clanked on the doorknob when he’d pulled it shut. Ben’s in the driver’s seat, and the truck is down the driveway and on the highway toward town in moments.
