Page 90 of Something Like Forever
“Besides William, ofcourse,” Jason said. “I want him to think I look—stop smiling likethat!”
“You’re cute no matterwhat you wear,” William said in the background.
“I don’t want to be cute.I want to be hot!”
Ben laughed, his troublesfar away, but it didn’t take long for them to come rushing back.“I’m having a rough day myself. Or Chinchilla is.”
“What’s going on?” Jasonasked, his tone instantly serious.
Ben described what hadhappened as best he could, not sparing a single detail, just incase it helped. “Any idea what that might be?”
“It’snot unusual for bulldogs to have breathing problems,” Jason said.“They have narrow tracheas anyway, and if something is blocking iteven a little bit… Ever had her soft palatechecked?”
“That could be it,” Bensaid. “She seems fine now, so crisis averted?”
He could hear Jason’shesitation. “I’m not a vet. I’d still take her in, when you can.How old is she again?”
“Fourteen,” Ben said. He only knew the answer because he haddone the math himself. He had a better chance of learningMarcello’s true age than getting Tim to tell himChinchilla’s.
“That’s old for abulldog,” Jason said. “Most live around ten years if you’relucky.”
“Whatare you saying?”
“Nothing,” Jason said quickly. “Just that it’s probably notunusual for her to have trouble at this age. Better get itchecked.”
“I will. Think it can waituntil my lunch break?”
“If sheseems okay, it can wait until you’re off work. Just keep an eye onher. If the coughing starts again, I would take her rightin.”
“I’llsend her to the school nurse,” Ben joked, mostly for Jason’sbenefit. He didn’t want his son to worry too much when he should befocusing on his big day instead. “I need to clock in now. Thanksfor your advice. I love you!”
“I love you too. Keep meposted.”
“I will.”
They said goodbye, Benlooking over at his passenger. “Ready for your first day ofschool?”
Chinchilla raised herhead. She seemed stable and alert, so together they made their wayinside the building. Ben hurried down the halls, wanting to avoidunwanted attention because he didn’t have permission to do this. Hewas fortunate to have his own teaching space, even though it washalf the size of a normal classroom. He didn’t mind, since he hadfewer students. Just seven at the moment, but that number oftenfluctuated as issues were resolved in some students and identifiedin others.
Already his mind wasworking overtime, trying to figure out how to incorporate a doginto his lesson. He supposed words like ‘veterinarian’ would bechallenge enough, so that might work. He didn’t plan on introducingterms like trachea and soft palate though. His job was first andforemost to get his students talking in general, and what bettertopic than pets? Especially for the younger age group he dealtwith, none of them older than nine.
After some encouragement,he managed to get Chinchilla hidden beneath his desk. He hoped thatshe would settle down there, but as soon as students started filinginto the room, Chinchilla ventured out to see what the commotionwas. She instantly became the star. School was boring enough formost children, and a dog was the antithesis of humdrumtextbooks.
“Okayeveryone!” Ben said, trying to get the classroom under control.“Today we’re going to talk about animals, and if we do well, you’lleach have a chance to pet Chinchilla before you go to lunch. Let’sstart there. Can anyone repeat the name I justsaid?”
“Do we getsticker?”
“Yes,” Ben said. “Everyone who works hardwill get a stickerandtime with Chinchilla. This isthe only day she’ll be here. If you don’t try your best, you won’thave another chance tomorrow.”
That did the trick. Thechildren attempted to focus on him and respond to his questions,even though their eyes often returned longingly to the corner whereChinchilla had settled down to sleep. Ben kept looking at her too,wanting to check that she was still okay and breathing normally. Orat all. He hadn’t considered that possibility when bringing herhere. He could already imagine having to meet with the parents andexplain why mortality had become a subject in hisclassroom.
At the end of the hour,the children lined up with impressive self-discipline to petChinchilla. She remained on all fours, but she clearly loved theattention. Ben wished he had thought to bring her sooner. Stickerssimply didn’t command the same respect, but they would have to do,because he had already decided she couldn’t stay.
He waited just long enoughfor the hallways to clear out, calling to cancel an appointmentwith the school psychologist and trying not to think of theevaluation forms he needed to fill out. Right now, all thatmattered was getting Chinchilla to the vet.
“You’resuch a good girl,” he said while loading her into the car. “Yes youare! You’ve definitely earned your sticker. Or how about I make youa burger tonight?” When this failed to impress her, he added, “Orwe’ll have Tim grill you a burger.”
Now she looked excited.Treacherous mutt. Ben loved her regardless. He wanted her to beokay. Not just for Tim’s benefit, but his own. She was as much apart of their family as Jason. Maybe they should hold anotheradoption ceremony during the wedding.
