"He's got a boob," I said.
"It's a tumor," the doctor said, but I refused to look at him.
Lena dealt with the doctor while I sat in a chair and let the dog continue to lick my face. I couldn't believe his tail was wagging at the same time. This dog was close to death just a few hours ago and here he was all excited to see me. Who the fuck was I to him?
I heard Lena ask when they'd know if the tumors were cancerous or not, but I didn't hear what the doctor said. I had to turn his voice off or I'd explode. I focused my attention on the dog in my arms.
"You like me?" I said.
The dog licked me on the mouth and I laughed.
When Lena was finished with the scumbag doctor, she sat next to me and said, "I guess I know what we're naming him, huh?"
"You bet your ass you know," I said. "This is Bruno."
And then I couldn't get out of that office fast enough to take Bruno home.
Lena signed off on the $900 bill and we left that shithole office. I didn't give another thought to the prick who'd demanded payment before treatment, but talking about it always upsets me to this day. I still can't fathom how a veterinarian could ignore an obviously sick dog. Picturing him walking past the dog into his office still makes my blood boil. How could anyone be that cruel? Let alone a veterinarian?