Chapter 40
Doc Talbot propped his butt on the edge of the desk, hovered above them. “Sit.”
“No, thanks.” Nathan shook his head. He’d been pushing it down all morning, but the anxious energy was just crashing through him now. “How is he? Does he have a chance?”
“Oh, he’s got a chance, son. Your dog can live to a ripe old age, but only if you adjust your life to take care of him. He’ll need insulin shots, timed specifically, every day. The routine can’t vary. He’ll need regular checkups. He’ll need a special diet. And it’s not cheap. I can sell it to you at cost, as long as you cover the cost of delivery. But it’s still pricey, and non-negotiable.”
He was aware of Amy’s watchful eyes on him, but no way in hell would he reach for her. He grasped the edge of the table in the corner, allowed it to support him. “And if I do all that?”
“With that, he can live a normal life. Oh, he’ll also need exercise. Normal, consistent exercise.” Doc looked worried. “I’ll be honest. Not everyone’s up for the kind of expense and care an animal with diabetes needs. Some give the animal up, hope for a kind foster. Some dump it at a shelter, whatever’s available. And others choose to put the animal down. I don’t judge.” He heaved a huge sigh. “If I couldn’t separate my feelings from the realities, I’d be a wash in this business. So it’s up to you, son. Your decision. What do you want?”
He swore he could feel the room revolving around him. He glanced toward Amy, saw with a wrench that her knuckles were white as she too grasped the arm of the chair.
“Son, I’m asking you directly. Do you want this dog to go home with you or do you want to sign him over to me? He’s your dog. It’s your decision.”
And the room revolved a bit faster. “Are you asking me if I want to just leave him here? And leave? Go away, about my business?”
Doc fixed a steely look on him. “That’s exactly what I’m asking you.”
The room was still in motion as his mind flew into mental math again. With what Amy was paying him, what he was giving her back for rent…
Aw, hell. This he knew, despite the evidence of figures against. “He’s coming home with me. At least for now.”
Doc held his gaze. “I’ve got enough food and insulin ready for you for the next ten days. The charge is added to your bill, and this bit is at my cost. Are you going to…?” And the question hovered, suspended in the air.
“If you’re asking me the long-term decision? That I can’t give right now. But what I can tell you is Ryker is coming home with me tonight. Did everything else go well?”
“Everything else is a massive success. Like I said it’s all good—except to keep your dog healthy, alive and happy, it’s going to cost money, ongoing, and your focus. No use beating around the bush about that. It’s a fact. If you’re in for that, that dog’s got a lot of years left in him. And I’ll be honest. He’s already a favorite around here. You’re a lucky man, Nathan.”
Doc pounded him on the back, and something in him said it wasn’t only congratulations, but relief. And yeah, while he knew what he was going to do for the next night and day, possibly for a few days, he had no idea what he was going to do for the long term.