[story] the lives of animals
author: nijiiro sumi/虹色墨
She was just a little girl, maybe nine years old, but she bit her lip and held in her tears when Iris took the pomeranian away.
Then: "Wait!"
Iris paused in the doorway and turned back, thinking that the girl maybe wanted to say goodbye one last time, scratch her beloved pet behind his pointed brown ears. But instead she said, "Do you have any carrots? Gus loves carrots."
Her mother made a shushing sound. "Don't bother her with something like that right now."
"Actually," said Iris, "I brought some baby carrots in my lunch today. Will those do?"
The girl nodded. "Can I feed him one? Just one? I promise it won't take very long."
"Take as long as you like," Iris said. She put down the pet carrier and went to fetch her lunch from the break room.
"How was work today?" Jonas asked as Iris fumbled her way through the door.
Iris kicked off both shoes and dropped her purse on the floor before answering. "Put down Gus today. Kidneys were failing." She flopped onto the couch, where Jonas was sitting with an Xbox controller in his hand. She buried her face in his lap. He smelled like blood and fish. "How was yours?"
"The usual. I had one customer who insisted that he wanted exactly one pound of salmon, not a single ounce over or under."
"Ugh. I'm sorry."
Jonas shrugged. "It's what it is."
Iris pushed herself into a more upright position and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "How's Sugar?"
"She's doing a little better today. She tried to lick a knife in the dishwasher when I left it open with my back turned."
Iris smiled. It was funny how bad behavior seemed so hopeful now. She slid off the couch and padded into the bedroom.
Sugar was lying in her dog bed, but she looked up and thumped her tail when Iris came into the room. Iris squatted down onto her heels. "Hi girl!" Sugar lurched out of the bed, tail wagging, and shoved her nose into Iris' hand. Just a few months ago the dachshund would have barked and come running to the door, but these days her hearing wasn't so good, and her eyes were milky. Iris smiled and gave Sugar a vigorous scratch behind the ears.
Sugar followed her out to the living room and looked pleadingly at Iris when she sat down on the couch next to Jonas. Jonas jerked as his avatar on the screen ducked around a corner, as if physically moving his body would help him not get shot by an opponent. Iris picked Sugar up and put her on the couch between them. Sugar wriggled until she was comfortable, her paws disappearing into the cushions.
Jonas paused the game. "What do you want for dinner?"
Iris rolled her head on her neck. She honestly had no appetite, but that would change in the next hour or so. "How about Indian food?"
"Sure. The vegan place?"
"Yeah," said Iris. "That sounds good."
"I've got her out in the car," he said. "You can go out there and do it, right? I don't have to bring her in here? Only she's comfortable there, and she can't move so good."
"That's fine," said Iris. "Show me to your car."
It was a teal green hatchback Subaru, covered with scratched and faded bumper stickers: ANIMALS ARE LITTLE PEOPLE IN FUR COATS, the word COEXIST made up of various religious symbols, THINK PEACE, I'm diagonally parked in a parallel universe, I'm already against the next war. He popped the hatch to reveal a thin golden retriever lying on her side. She thumped her tail, lifted her head, and gave her best smile.
Mammary cancer that had spread to her lungs; the dog could probably barely breathe. She licked Iris' hand. Her owner went around to the front of the car and started music playing: something new age-y, with lots of bells and woodwind. "She loves this music," the man explained when he returned. Iris was prepping the injection. He climbed into the car next to his dog and put her head on his lap.
"My wife had cancer," he said. "Breast cancer. But she beat it. She lost all her hair and one of her tits, but she beat it, and it was all because of this girl, here." He bent his head and pressed his mouth to the dog's golden fur. "I'm sorry, girl."
Jonas wasn't home that night. He was working the closing shift at the supermarket. Iris kicked off her shoes, dropped her purse on the floor, and went into the bedroom. "Sugar!"
Sugar whipped her tail back and forth and lurched out of the bed. She followed Iris into the kitchen. Iris put half a scoop of dry kibble into the dog dish, but Sugar paid no attention to that. She kept watching as Iris opened the refrigerator and took out a can of dog food with some foil covering the top. Iris dug out a generous tablespoon and smushed it down into the dry food. She drizzled a little hot water on it from the tap. A meaty smell rose from the dish. Iris set it on the floor.
Sugar dug into it with gusto. Iris watched her for a few minutes, smiling faintly, and opened the refrigerator again. She replaced the can of dog food on the top shelf and pulled out a carton of leftover saag aloo. She ate it cold, standing over the sink.
"I found it by the side of the road," he said. "Can you save it, doc? Do you think there's anything that can be done?"
"It" was a red-tailed hawk. It hadn't tried to flap its wings at any point. Bad sign. Iris stood by and let the doctor look it over, shaking his head the whole time. The hawk had its beak open, panting with fear or pain.
"Broken spine, broken pelvis, and this wing's broken all to pieces. It must have been hit by a car. Thanks for bringing him in," said the doctor.
The young man wilted. He looked barely out of high school, thin and gawky, with enormous black-framed glasses and brown curly hair. "You mean..."
"It's unlikely he'd survive rehabilitation, even if we did somehow manage to fix the spine, the pelvis, the wing," the doctor said gently.
The young man looked down at the hawk, who glared up at him with malevolent yellow eyes. "Dammit," he muttered. "Okay. I--thanks. Okay." He walked away.
"Hey," said Jonas.
"Hey." Iris kicked off her shoes, dropped her purse, and fell face-first into the couch.
"Rough day, huh?" said Jonas. He was in the kitchen. The can of wet dog food was on the counter, but Sugar trotted over to the couch to lick Iris' hand.
"It was pretty bad." Iris turned her face out of the cushion and gave Sugar a proper scratch behind the ears. Sugar's tail whipped back and forth. "We're getting a new intern tomorrow. Maybe they'll want to do all the injections, like the last one did. Interns are weird."
Jonas put Sugar's dog dish back on the floor with a loud clank, but Sugar didn't move. "Go on, girl," Iris murmured, pushing Sugar away. Sugar just pushed back, still trying to lick Iris' hand. Finally, Iris got off the couch and went into the kitchen, where Jonas was washing his hands. Sugar buried her nose in her food bowl and began to eat.
"One of my coworkers, his buddy's dog just had puppies," said Jonas. "He said in a couple of months, they'll be ready to give them away to good homes."
Iris shook her head. "We're not getting another dog."
Jonas dried his hands and leaned against the counter. "Never ever?"
"Never ever," said Iris.
the end
She was just a little girl, maybe nine years old, but she bit her lip and held in her tears when Iris took the pomeranian away.
Then: "Wait!"
Iris paused in the doorway and turned back, thinking that the girl maybe wanted to say goodbye one last time, scratch her beloved pet behind his pointed brown ears. But instead she said, "Do you have any carrots? Gus loves carrots."
Her mother made a shushing sound. "Don't bother her with something like that right now."
"Actually," said Iris, "I brought some baby carrots in my lunch today. Will those do?"
The girl nodded. "Can I feed him one? Just one? I promise it won't take very long."
"Take as long as you like," Iris said. She put down the pet carrier and went to fetch her lunch from the break room.
"How was work today?" Jonas asked as Iris fumbled her way through the door.
Iris kicked off both shoes and dropped her purse on the floor before answering. "Put down Gus today. Kidneys were failing." She flopped onto the couch, where Jonas was sitting with an Xbox controller in his hand. She buried her face in his lap. He smelled like blood and fish. "How was yours?"
"The usual. I had one customer who insisted that he wanted exactly one pound of salmon, not a single ounce over or under."
"Ugh. I'm sorry."
Jonas shrugged. "It's what it is."
Iris pushed herself into a more upright position and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "How's Sugar?"
"She's doing a little better today. She tried to lick a knife in the dishwasher when I left it open with my back turned."
Iris smiled. It was funny how bad behavior seemed so hopeful now. She slid off the couch and padded into the bedroom.
Sugar was lying in her dog bed, but she looked up and thumped her tail when Iris came into the room. Iris squatted down onto her heels. "Hi girl!" Sugar lurched out of the bed, tail wagging, and shoved her nose into Iris' hand. Just a few months ago the dachshund would have barked and come running to the door, but these days her hearing wasn't so good, and her eyes were milky. Iris smiled and gave Sugar a vigorous scratch behind the ears.
Sugar followed her out to the living room and looked pleadingly at Iris when she sat down on the couch next to Jonas. Jonas jerked as his avatar on the screen ducked around a corner, as if physically moving his body would help him not get shot by an opponent. Iris picked Sugar up and put her on the couch between them. Sugar wriggled until she was comfortable, her paws disappearing into the cushions.
Jonas paused the game. "What do you want for dinner?"
Iris rolled her head on her neck. She honestly had no appetite, but that would change in the next hour or so. "How about Indian food?"
"Sure. The vegan place?"
"Yeah," said Iris. "That sounds good."
"I've got her out in the car," he said. "You can go out there and do it, right? I don't have to bring her in here? Only she's comfortable there, and she can't move so good."
"That's fine," said Iris. "Show me to your car."
It was a teal green hatchback Subaru, covered with scratched and faded bumper stickers: ANIMALS ARE LITTLE PEOPLE IN FUR COATS, the word COEXIST made up of various religious symbols, THINK PEACE, I'm diagonally parked in a parallel universe, I'm already against the next war. He popped the hatch to reveal a thin golden retriever lying on her side. She thumped her tail, lifted her head, and gave her best smile.
Mammary cancer that had spread to her lungs; the dog could probably barely breathe. She licked Iris' hand. Her owner went around to the front of the car and started music playing: something new age-y, with lots of bells and woodwind. "She loves this music," the man explained when he returned. Iris was prepping the injection. He climbed into the car next to his dog and put her head on his lap.
"My wife had cancer," he said. "Breast cancer. But she beat it. She lost all her hair and one of her tits, but she beat it, and it was all because of this girl, here." He bent his head and pressed his mouth to the dog's golden fur. "I'm sorry, girl."
Jonas wasn't home that night. He was working the closing shift at the supermarket. Iris kicked off her shoes, dropped her purse on the floor, and went into the bedroom. "Sugar!"
Sugar whipped her tail back and forth and lurched out of the bed. She followed Iris into the kitchen. Iris put half a scoop of dry kibble into the dog dish, but Sugar paid no attention to that. She kept watching as Iris opened the refrigerator and took out a can of dog food with some foil covering the top. Iris dug out a generous tablespoon and smushed it down into the dry food. She drizzled a little hot water on it from the tap. A meaty smell rose from the dish. Iris set it on the floor.
Sugar dug into it with gusto. Iris watched her for a few minutes, smiling faintly, and opened the refrigerator again. She replaced the can of dog food on the top shelf and pulled out a carton of leftover saag aloo. She ate it cold, standing over the sink.
"I found it by the side of the road," he said. "Can you save it, doc? Do you think there's anything that can be done?"
"It" was a red-tailed hawk. It hadn't tried to flap its wings at any point. Bad sign. Iris stood by and let the doctor look it over, shaking his head the whole time. The hawk had its beak open, panting with fear or pain.
"Broken spine, broken pelvis, and this wing's broken all to pieces. It must have been hit by a car. Thanks for bringing him in," said the doctor.
The young man wilted. He looked barely out of high school, thin and gawky, with enormous black-framed glasses and brown curly hair. "You mean..."
"It's unlikely he'd survive rehabilitation, even if we did somehow manage to fix the spine, the pelvis, the wing," the doctor said gently.
The young man looked down at the hawk, who glared up at him with malevolent yellow eyes. "Dammit," he muttered. "Okay. I--thanks. Okay." He walked away.
"Hey," said Jonas.
"Hey." Iris kicked off her shoes, dropped her purse, and fell face-first into the couch.
"Rough day, huh?" said Jonas. He was in the kitchen. The can of wet dog food was on the counter, but Sugar trotted over to the couch to lick Iris' hand.
"It was pretty bad." Iris turned her face out of the cushion and gave Sugar a proper scratch behind the ears. Sugar's tail whipped back and forth. "We're getting a new intern tomorrow. Maybe they'll want to do all the injections, like the last one did. Interns are weird."
Jonas put Sugar's dog dish back on the floor with a loud clank, but Sugar didn't move. "Go on, girl," Iris murmured, pushing Sugar away. Sugar just pushed back, still trying to lick Iris' hand. Finally, Iris got off the couch and went into the kitchen, where Jonas was washing his hands. Sugar buried her nose in her food bowl and began to eat.
"One of my coworkers, his buddy's dog just had puppies," said Jonas. "He said in a couple of months, they'll be ready to give them away to good homes."
Iris shook her head. "We're not getting another dog."
Jonas dried his hands and leaned against the counter. "Never ever?"
"Never ever," said Iris.
the end