by Ron Shiflet
“Have you lived here long, Mr. Harlow?” Jill asked, kneeling down to pet her chocolate Lab, Brewster.
“All my life, and call me George. That’s a fine looking dog. You ever use ‘em for duck huntin’?”
“Brewster would be scared of the ducks,” Jason laughed. “He’s a big baby.”
“Yes, but he’s our baby,” Jill said. “We’ve had him since we got married.”
Brewster barked as if he knew they were talking about him.
“Would you like to come over for lunch, George?”
“I’d like ta, but I’ve got waterin’ to do,” he said and pointed to his garden.
“Well, maybe another time then?” Jill said.
“That would be just fine. And thank you.”
“Do you believe what he said about the witches?” Jill asked when Harlow was out of earshot.
“Some of these old-timers have stories that have been passed down three or four generations. Sometimes they don’t know what the truth is themselves.”
“Well, I thought it was kind of creepy.”
“I guess it’s possible. We are in the Bible belt. Not too long ago, nothing was open on Sunday. C’mon, let’s get inside and start setting up the kitchen. I’ll cook tonight.”
The next morning, Jason took Brewster out to relieve his bladder. The day had dawned with a scrim of fog and as usual, it was already hot. He rubbed eye boogers out of their crevices and felt the deep warmth on his face and bare shoulders as Brewster marked his new territory in the yard.
It seemed as if the temperature hadn’t dropped below eighty at night or ninety during the day since May and there was no relief in sight. Jason was due to start his new job the next day. He dreaded unloading trucks in this heat.
When Brewster finished, Jason led him back toward the house. He thought he’d surprise Jill with breakfast in bed and he could already taste the bacon and eggs. Brewster had other ideas though and jerked his leash and Jason’s arm in the other direction.
“Damn it, Brewster. C’mon, boy. But the big Lab had caught a scent and gagged against his collar to track it. “All right, okay, we’ll check it out, but it better not be a skunk.”
Brewster led Jason to the corner of the property near the river. The water barely moved and was unusually low on its banks. With the extreme heat this summer had also come a drought, causing the tobacco and soybean farmers to lose whole crops.
The dog sniffed along the brown grass until he came to an area of dusty ground which supported no vegetation. The ground looked spoiled, as if something toxic had been spilled there. The circular patch of ground was also slightly concave, and cracks spiraled away from its center.
“C’mon Brewster. There’s nothing here.” But the dog persisted and then began to dig. It surprised Jason because Brewster didn’t usually dig holes, even when he had a bone. He was simply too lazy. But he dug now, and furiously, throwing up clumps of dusty ground, grunting slightly with effort and determination. Jason could just watch and wonder what had gotten the Lab so excited.
Then as quickly as he’d begun, Brewster stopped and sat down next to the hole as if to say, there, I’m finished, now it’s time to rest.
Jason peered down into the rough, shallow pit. A few earthworms wriggled, half in and half out of the opening. Skinny roots, now striped with claw marks, hung lifelessly. Near the bottom of the hole, the soil was a rich and black. The scent of composting leaves and strangely enough, burnt wood wafted out. Something poking out of the disturbed earth caught Jason’s attention and he bent down to pick it up.
When he realized what it was, he nearly dropped it again out of disgust, but his curiosity overpowered his revulsion.
It was a tooth, roots and all, white and smooth, its base lined with tiny crevices of wear. Jason used the pad of his thumb to rub the remaining dirt from the extracted denticle and held it up, wondering who the molar had belonged to.
Brewster barked once, breaking Jason out of his daydream but instead of throwing the tooth back into the hole, he put it in his pants pocket.
Inside, Jill was already up making coffee. The aroma hit Jason as soon as he entered, like a wall of warm, rich decadence.
“It’s almost ready,” Jill said. “Do you want breakfast now, or do you want to wait awhile?”
“If you had been lazy, you would have gotten breakfast in bed,” Jason said, hugging her from behind and kissing her neck.
“Hmmm, maybe I’ll take a rain check on that. But you can feed Brewster.”
“Not quite the same, but I’m sure he’ll be just as grateful.”
Jason opened the can of Alpo and cringed at the overpoweringly meaty smell. Brewster sat near the counter, wagging his tail and licking his chops.
“Alright, alright, boy. Here you go.” Jason shook the can until the goop inside slid out and landed with a wet plop in Brewster’s bowl. The dog didn’t waste any time, he dug right in taking full mouthfuls of the slop.
“Slow down, pal. It’s not going anywhere,” Jason laughed.
“Hey, hon. I almost forgot. Look what Brewster dug up in the yard,” he said, pulling the tooth out of his pocket.
“Ooh, gross,” Jill said. “I wonder if there’s a whole head buried out there someplace?”
“I doubt it. Brewster would have kept digging. You should’ve seen him.”
“Well, I hope he doesn’t make it a habit. I want to plant flowers.
“Ya hear that, boy. No more digging.”
Brewster looked up and then went back to eating. Jason set the tooth on the counter then thought about all those times his mother had chimed, “You don’t know where that’s been,” and started to pick it up again to throw it away.
Jason missed grabbing the molar and his little finger knocked it off the counter and onto the tile floor. It bounced twice with a soft tinkling sound and landed in Brewster’s food dish.
Jason tried to push the dog away from the bowl, but it was too late, Brewster had already eaten it.
“You big pig. That’s nasty,” Jason chided. “Don’t you even chew your food?”
Brewster just looked at him and then padded into the living room to take his first of several naps of the day.
Jason debated whether to tell Jill what happened but thought better of it. She’d want to take Brewster straight to the vet and they couldn’t afford it. The last time Brewster got sick, it ended up costing them a hundred dollars for antibiotics and another two hundred for the visit. Nope, no vet today. If he got sick later, Jason would tell Jill, but for right now, the dog was fine and the tooth would probably just pass right through his system. No sense creating a problem where there wasn’t one.
The next day at work was just as brutal as Jason had feared. Although he knew his job, there were plenty of boring, new details at this facility he had to learn. The warehouse was swelteringly hot, and inside the trucks was even worse. By the end of the day, all he wanted was to sit in an air-conditioned room and drink a cold beer.
Jill wasn’t home when he pulled into the driveway. She must’ve stopped at the store to pick up something on the way home. Jason dragged himself inside and plopped down on the sofa. Something was missing. Usually Brewster met him at the door, tail wagging, begging to first be petted and then to go out and pee, but the house was silent. Jason could hear the clock ticking away on the wall, but there was nothing else.
“Brewster. Hey buddy, where are ya?” Fear tickled the back of Jason’s neck and he thought about the tooth from the day before. Maybe Brewster had died from an infection or something. Jason pictured the dog getting sick and crawling under the bed or into the back of one of the closets to die.
“Shit!” Maybe he’d gotten sick this morning before Jill left and she’d taken the dog to the vet. God knows Jason had been too busy today to get any messages. He popped open his phone, but there were no voice mails. “Shit!”
“Brewster!” More silence.
Jason hoisted himself up from the couch, wandered through the
dining room and checked the kitchen. Nothing. He climbed the stairs, calling out Brewster’s name as he neared the top. The dog usually wasn’t allowed upstairs, but this was a new house; maybe he’d gone exploring. Jason prayed that was the case. Maybe Brewster had realized his master was home and knew he’d gotten caught where he wasn’t usually allowed to go and had not answered Jason’s calls out of fear of getting scolded.
The spare bedroom was at the top of the stairs and Jason checked that first, but the dog wasn’t in there, not even under the bed or in the closet. Next came the master bedroom. Brewster laid on the carpet, bathed in afternoon sunlight. It looked like he had died peacefully in his sleep. Jason went to his friend and started petting his head. Sorrow welled up inside of him and he wondered what he would tell Jill.
Brewster lifted his head, blinked twice and began wagging his tail.
“You were asleep? You stupid, lazy dog. You scared the shit out of me.”
Brewster licked Jason’s hand and started to get up. As he did the dog let out a long, loud fart. It stunk like nothing Jason had ever smelled. It was beyond rotten, it was putrid. Jason gagged and ran out of the room.
“Nice, Brewster. Real nice. What the hell did you eat?” But Jason knew.
He took the dog outside and allowed him to do his business, including a large pile which stunk worse than the fart. Jason was glad the dog hadn’t shit in the house. If he had, they would have had to burn the carpet.
“It’s a hot one, ain’t it?” came a voice behind him.
Jason turned and there was George Harlow holding out a cold beer.
Yes, sir, it is. Thank you,” Jason said taking the beer. He opened it and swallowed three big gulps. It tasted wonderful.
“How was the new job?” Harlow asked, eyeing Brewster.
“Not too bad,” Jason lied.
“That dog of yers has put on a bit o’ weight since yest’day. Hasn’t he?”
Jason looked at his dog. He hadn’t noticed it before, mostly because he was relieved the dog was still alive, but as he looked at Brewster’s stomach, Jason noticed it was swollen.
“Great.”
“Something wrong with em?” Harlow asked, scratching behind the dog’s ears.
“Maybe, I don’t know. He was digging in the yard yesterday and he found a tooth, then later, he swallowed it. I guess I’m gonna have to take him to the vet.”
Brewster let out another one of his smelly farts and then wagged his tail to fan it around.
“Oh boy,” Harlow said. “Are you sure it wern’t chili that he et?”
“I guess we’ll see if there’s a vet’s office still open when Jill gets home. I hate to go to a 24 hour outfit. They cost a fortune.”
“Well, hold on just a minute. My vet owes me a fava and he’s a good un. My horses have given him enough business through the years to put his kids through college. I’ll give him a call if you’d like?”
“That would be great. It’s probably nothing, but if I let this go and it gets serious, Jill will never forgive me. I never told her about him swallowing that tooth.”
“Sure don’t smell like nothin’,” Harlow said, fanning his nose. “I’ll give him a call.”
Jill pulled up in the driveway as Harlow called his friend, the vet, and Jason could see by the look on her face, that she sensed something was wrong.
“Where’s Brewster?” she said before she was all the way out of the car.
“Brewster’s fine,” Jason said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “He’s inside farting, I think. I think he’s got a stomach ache.”
Jill rushed past him and ran inside the house, calling her dog’s name. A moment later, she came back out and leveled Jason in her glare.
“What did you feed him? His stomach is bloated up to twice its normal size.”
“I didn’t feed him anything. He accidentally ate that tooth I found yesterday, but I’m not sure…”
“The tooth! How did he get a hold of that?”
“It fell off the counter and bounced into his dish. Before I could get it, he’d swallowed it. You know how he eats. Anyway, Mr. Harlow is on the phone with a friend of his who’s also a vet.”
“Do you think he’s going to be okay? How could a tooth do that?”
“Not sure. It might just be a coincidence. He may have gotten into the trash or something. Probably got a hold of some bad meat.”
Harlow ended his call and told Jason and Jill his friend would be right over.
“Your friend makes house calls?” Jill said.
“You’re in the country, dear,” Harlow said. “Most vets do.” He said he’d wave his fee on this one as long as you call him from now on if you have any more need for a vet.”
“That sounds fine,” Jill said, looking nervously back toward the house. “Thank you.”
“Just being neighborly. Why don’t you get back inside and tend to ya dog?”
“Thanks again,” Jill said, rushing back inside. We owe you one.”
“How could a tooth make him bloat up like that?” Jason asked.
“I don’t rightly know, but I’m sure he’ll be fine. Dr. Furlong lives right up on Willow Road. He’ll be here in just a sec.”
“JASON! Get in here!” Jill’s voice shrieked from inside the house.
Jason and Harlow ran up the steps and into the house. Jill cradled Brewster’s head in her hands and he was throwing up a mixture of blood and bile. He looked weak and barely conscious.
“Oh God, Jason. What’s wrong with him,” Jill said.
“I don’t know, but we’ll find out. Just keep him still.”
“Dr. Furlong is here,” Harlow said, looking out the front door.
Harlow let the doctor in, and he took one look at Brewster and recommended they take the dog to the clinic.
“He’s having a seizure with possible internal bleeding,” Furlong said. “I can’t do anything for him here except stabilize him.”
After Furlong gave Brewster a shot, sending him into a lethargic state, Jason gently picked Brewster up and carried him to the car. He laid his friend on the back seat and Jill slid in next to him, whispering encouragement. Harlow jumped in the front seat and Furlong led them into town in his car.
They arrived at the clinic, ignoring two stop signs along the way. Furlong took Brewster from Jason and told them to follow him into the examining room. Jason explained about the tooth in more detail.
“That shouldn’t be causing him such extreme gastric distress. And if it did cause him an infection, it would have taken a few days to get going. Can you remember if he’s eaten anything else out of the ordinary?”
“No, nothing. Just his usual dog food,” Jason said.
“I’m going to X-Ray his abdomen and we’ll see if there is any blockage that could be causing this.”
Jason and Jill just nodded their heads. They were both past worrying about how much this would cost. Furlong recommended they go out into the waiting room and get some coffee.
A half an hour later Furlong called them back into the examining room. The doctor had an odd look on his face.
“What’s wrong,” Jill asked, obviously expecting the worst.
“There’s a mass on the film that I think ya’ll should take a look at.”
“No, not cancer. Please no.” Jill said, looking sick.
“No,” Furlong said. “At least I don’t think so. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
They stared at the film as Furlong explained what each of the white blobs were and then pointed to the largest blob on the illuminated sheet.
“What is it?” Harlow asked.
“I don’t know,” Furlong said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Can you take it out?” Jason asked.
“I can operate, and frankly, I’m interested to see what it is myself. If I have your permission, I’ll call my assistant and we’ll begin immediately. Please don’t worry about the cost. We’ll work something out.”
“Thank you. Y
es,” Jason said, not bothering to consult Jill. He knew without even looking at her what she would want.
Forty minutes later, Brewster was on the operating table with a tube taped to his muzzle and his tongue hanging out. Jill and Jason rubbed his head and kissed him gently.
“I’ll do whatever I can for him. This shouldn’t take very long; the mass is pressing against the abdominal wall, and I think it’s grown since we took the X-Rays.”
Jill paced as Harlow and Jason sat silently looking at the clock.
“I’m sure Brewster will be fine,” Harlow said at last. “Furlong is a damn fine doctor.”
Jill just wiped her eyes and stared out the window. Jason finally got up and tried to peer around the partition to see what was going on.
“He said it wouldn’t take long,” Jason said.
“It’s only been fifteen minutes,” Harlow said. “Sit tight.”
“I know, but the waiting is killing me. I can’t help thinking this is my fault.”
Jill walked over to him, laid her head on his shoulder and took his hand in her own. It was wet from tears, but warm and comforting.
Furlong appeared in the doorway. The front of his scrubs were covered in blood and as he took off his surgical mask, his face was a mask of shock and terror.
“You’d better come and look at this. Brewster’s fine, but you need to see this.” His face was pale.
“What is it, Jim?” Harlow asked his friend.
“Please, just come and look. I’ve got Brewster all stitched up and he’s still sedated.”
As Jason, Jill, and Harlow walked into the operating room, they were stuck at first by the smell. It was a rancid odor, ten times worse than Brewster’s toxic farts. The next thing they saw was Furlong’s assistant. She stood in one corner with her back to the wall, standing as far away from the mass of flesh lying on the table as she could get. The young woman looked pale and nauseated.
Jason, approached the bloody hunk of skin and hair lying on the stainless steel table.
“Is that…?” Jason asked. “No way. It can’t be what it looks like.”
“I’m afraid it is. The question is, how did it get in your dog’s stomach.”