As the family brought the dog home, they could see a marked improvement on it already. It seemed to be a little less traumatized.
"See Mom?" Buddy told his mother. "He’s doing better already." Margaret nodded but said nothing.
“He’s your responsibility, boys,” she replied instead. “You’re in charge of feeding him and walking him and cleaning up after him.”
Mark and Buddy seemed to understand. When they arrived at the house, they fed the dog just as Joel had showed them, using a couple of old soup bowls to hold the food and water the dog would require.
The dog’s reaction was mixed. He lapped up the water eagerly, obviously thirsty, but sniffed at the food as though it wasn’t what he was used to.
“Do you think he likes it?” Buddy asked nervously.
“It’s just not what he’s used to,” Mark replied with a shrug. “He’ll get used to it.”
Buddy seemed to be consoled by this. He nodded. The two boys decided to leave the dog alone and instead sat on the back steps where they could watch him eat without bothering him.
“He needs a name,” Buddy decided suddenly. “What should we name him?”
Mark shrugged. “Fido? Rover? Spot?”
“He hasn’t got any spots,” Buddy pointed out.
“That’s not the point,” Mark replied. “Lots of dogs named Spot don’t have any spots.”
Buddy rolled his eyes. “Try and be imaginative for once, Mark,” he scolded. “Everyone and his cousin has a dog named Fido or Rover or Spot.”
Mark shrugged. “Well, you come up with a name, then,” he retorted.
“How about Peanuts?” he asked. The dog looked up, seeming to sense that they were talking about him.
“Peanuts?”
“Yeah. That’s what color he is, you know,” Buddy pointed out. Mark glanced at the dog. It was sorta the same color, a light brownish yellow. He shrugged.
“Whatever,” he replied. The dog walked over to them and sat down, looking up at them with sorrowful brown eyes. “Peanuts it is.”
Buddy rubbed the dog’s head between his ears. “Peanuts it is then.” He grinned at the dog. “Ya hear that, boy? You’re name’s gonna be Peanuts from now on. I’m Buddy, and this is my brother, Mark. We’re gonna take care of ya.”
Mark rolled his eyes. “Bud, you talk as if he knows what you’re saying,” he laughed. Buddy was insulted.
“He does,” he replied. “I betcha he does. He’s not a normal dog, I can tell.”
Mark just laughed even harder.
Peanuts? They wanted to call him Peanuts? Well, it seemed like a good idea. It sounded similar to what he thought his name was. Something on the tip of his tongue that he couldn’t quite remember. Peanuts. It would have to do.
So the boys had names, eh? Mark and Buddy. They seemed familiar somehow, though he couldn’t tell. He couldn’t remember his own name, let alone anyone else’s.
Was he even supposed to be this way? His mind was so clouded after the explosion that he couldn’t remember anything before meeting the boys. That worried him.
Something didn’t make sense here. There was someone he was supposed to be looking for, but he couldn’t remember who they were. Heck, he couldn’t even remember who he was. How was he supposed to remember anyone else?
“Hey, you’re back!” the man behind the desk greeted the boys as they entered the waiting room of the veterinary clinic with the large golden retriever. It was a large dog, but they were neither dragging it nor being dragged.
“Yeah, we’re back for a checkup,” Mark replied with a smile. “Is it okay? We don’t have an appointment.”
“It’s okay,” Joel replied, giving the a-okay sign. The boys both visibly relaxed. “We were just wondering about you three the other day. How’s it working out?”
“It’s working,” Buddy replied.
“But he doesn’t like to eat,” Mark continued.
“Oh?”
“He doesn’t eat very often,” the brown-haired boy explained.
“Maybe he’s missing whoever he used to be with,” Joel offered consolingly.
“Maybe,” Mark replied. He heaved a sigh.
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Kelly,” Theresa told the elderly old lady. “I’m sure Gigi will be alright here while you’re gone. Just enjoy visiting your grandchildren.” She had to speak loudly because Mrs. Kelly’s hearing aid wasn’t functioning correctly.
“Thank you, sweetie,” Mrs. Kelly replied, talking equally loudly, because she, like many people whose hearing has begun to fade, believed that it was actually everyone else who was hard of hearing. Theresa nodded again, smiling as the old woman left the room.
The moment Mrs. Kelly had vacated the room, she sank with a sigh into the plastic chair and heaved a sigh. It had been a long day. She was glad that was her last patient. She glanced at the small toy poodle in the pet carrier that sat on the table and sighed. Gigi didn’t look too happy, either.
“I know how you feel, Gigi,” she told the dog. “It’s been a long day.”
The door to the office opened, and her heart raced. She bolted out of her chair, expecting it to be Mrs. Kelly returning, and not wanting to look too tired.
Joel grinned at her. “Tired?” he asked.
Theresa sighed as she tried to calm her racing heart. “You scared me,” she told him. He just laughed.
“I know,” he replied mischievously. She shook her head.
“And that’s what you intended, didn’t you?” she asked. He didn’t reply, but he didn’t have to. His grin was the answer.
“Can you handle another?” he asked her. She threw him a look. Exasperated, tired, eyes drooping.
“Joel, it’s been a long day,” she told him.
“I know,” he replied. She sighed. “Don’t you even want to know who it is?”
Theresa felt defeated. “Alright, who is it?” she asked.
“The Peterson’s,” he replied. “The boys are back.” He smiled as Theresa seemed to perk up at the very mention.
“Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” she scolded. “Bring ‘em in!” He laughed to himself as he went out to bring them in.
“Peanuts, huh?” Theresa asked as she placed the stethoscope on the dog’s chest. “He seems to be doing okay.”
“He’s not eating well,” Mark told her gravely. She looked at him.
“Not surprising,” she replied with an equally somber expression. “He probably misses whoever his former owners were.”
Buddy nodded. “That’s what he said,” he told her, gesturing towards the outside of the room, where Joel was.
She nodded. “It’s happened before,” she told them.
“What’s gonna happen to him?” Mark asked.
“Well, one of two things. Most likely he’ll get to like you and start eating. Then he’ll be fine.”
“But what if he doesn’t?”
She frowned. “Well, then we might have a problem,” she replied as gently as possible. “But don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
Neither boy looked very consoled. Buddy frowned in thought.
“I wonder what happened to his old owners?” he speculated. Theresa shrugged.
“A million different possibilities, Buddy,” she replied. “They could have moved and left him behind, could have sold him, could have died.” She shrugged. “Never can be sure.”
Buddy looked at Peanuts. “I wonder if he knows.”
Theresa grinned. “He probably does. But he’s probably also very confused.” She smiled as she re-pocketed her stethoscope.
“How is he?” Mark asked.
“Seems to be fine,” she replied. “I think he might have lost a little weight, but nothing that’ll hurt him.”
The boys looked relieved as they left. Theresa stood by the door as she watched them walk down the street. She heaved a sigh.
“I hope it works out for them,” she commented to no one in particular.
“So do I,” Joel replied, scaring her again as he appeared out of nowhere.
