Page 58 of The End of the World As We Know It
He ventured into the attic, and after a great deal of rummaging and cursing, located the baby things he’d repurchased. The stuffed animals tore at his heart, but he soldiered through until he unearthed the bottles. He filled one with water, sprinkled in a pinch of sugar, and gathered the dik-dik into his lap. The laceration on her flank made him uneasy, but if she didn’t get some liquids soon, infection wouldn’t matter.
She refused to drink.
As he rocked the La-Z-Boy and stroked her fur, the lamplight revealed how wretched a state she was in. Old scars. Hairless grooves inflicted by a whip or a slender branch. He ran his fingers through her fur and detected welts too pronounced for bug bites. More likely from the brutal edges of work boots.
Baker compressed his lips.
“Come on, girl,” he murmured, brushing the bottle’s rubber nipple against her mouth.
The dik-dik turned away and nuzzled his thigh.
Baker sighed. “Every word that dickweed said is true. Look at this.” He pinched the back of his hand, where the flesh was so runneled with scars you couldn’t discern his knuckles. “See? Doesn’t evenhurt. What hurts,” he said, drawing up a sleeve to expose unmarred flesh, “is this.” He squeezed the skin. “I don’t deserve this. Don’t deserve any goddamn thing.”
The dik-dik lolled her head and licked his scarred hand.
“Don’t,” he said, but he didn’t stop her. He nodded toward the kitchen. “Know that door you’ve been using? I installed it for Petey, a Rottweiler who showed up ten years ago. At first I didn’t let him in because he looked mean as hell. But at some point I started putting out a water dish for him and chopping up bologna. People are afraid of Rottweilers, but Petey was as gentle as a June breeze. I took him in. Bought him all kinds of toys. He used to watchHappy DaysandThree’s Companywith me.”
The dik-dik continued to lap at his scars.
“Petey started acting funny, and by the time I got him to the vet he was in bad shape. Cancer, Dr. Weizak said. It’d been growing in him a long time. Apparently, Petey was an old dog. Weizak said the poor boy was in a world of pain, so he put him down that night.” Baker chewed his bottom lip. “I like to think the part of his life he spent with me was a good part. But I wonder. What if the cancer started because of his diet? I used to feed Petey whatever I was eating, since he didn’t care for dog food, and that was probably a mistake. I still brood about it.”
The dik-dik graduated from his left hand to his right, as though mothering a newborn.
Baker reclined his head. “Here’s something: I dream damn near every night, but last night I dreamed of my grandma.” He peered out the window, where a bat flittered against a yellow-blue dusk. “That generation was different. Some were shitbags. Big heaps of prejudice. But others… they had this glow. Grandma Lenora was one of them. She never made me feel bad. Never teased or judged. She’d wink at me sometimes, like we were in on the joke together. Then she’d fix me a sandwich or take me to her garden to pick vegetables.” The thickness in his voice surprised him. “She’s been gone thirty years, but I stillmiss her. She knew how to make you feel like you mattered. I tried to be that way with my kids, but—” He cut off and went quiet for a spell. He chuckled, passed a self-conscious hand over his mouth. “You know, you sort of remind me of her. How about we call you Lenora?”
Lenora licked him a couple more times, paused as if to deliberate, then took the bottle into her mouth and began to suck.
Evening of the next day, Baker sat cross-legged on the living room floor,The Exorcistshowing on the television. He’d triedAnimal HouseandThe Blues Brothers, but Lenora didn’t take to them. Only horror movies held her attention.
He scowled through his readers at the encyclopedia in his lap. “?‘GenusMadoqua, the dik-dik is an herbivorous dwarf antelope from the bushlands of Southern and Eastern Africa.’?” He glanced at her. “Guess you came a long way.” He found his place with an index finger. “?‘Family Bovidae.’?”
He put a knuckle to his lips.Bovidaewas only a hairsbreadth frombovine, and so far, cows seemed to be surviving this ordeal.
Lenora came over and nosed at the package of Nutter Butters, so he slid out the plastic sleeve and let her have at it. He set the encyclopedia aside and selectedThe Complete Dog Owner Home Veterinary Guide, which he’d mail-ordered after adopting Petey. He thumbed through it, came up with jack shit, then discovered an FAQ in the back.
Question: Can humans transfer infirmities to their dogs?
Answer: Though it is not impossible, it is exceedingly rare for a dog to contract a human illness.
He turned to Lenora. “That’s promising. Animals catch sick from each other. Long as I keep you in the house, you should be good.” He scratched her under the chin, where she seemed to prefer it. “Maybe I’ll litter-train you. Should be plenty of pet supplies in town.”
Baker frowned. Something about her breathing disquieted him. Was it faster than usual?
He caressed her and surveyed her wounds. The one on her foreleg appeared to be healing nicely, but the livid gash on her flank concerned him. It glimmered with yellowish pus, like scummy pollution puddled in a ditch.
Baker fetched a pencil and a notepad. On it he scratched:
Kitty Litter
Band-Aids
Nutter Butters
Veggies
Dik-Dik Medicine
He paused, tapped the pencil against the pad, then added,
