The Dogs Were Rescued (And So Was I) by Teresa J. Rhyne Read Free Book Online Page A

guest handed him a green-sprinkled doggie doughnut.
    “He is my little survivor, and that’s really what we are here celebrating today. Seamus, Comet, Bogart… They are all survivors. And so am I.”
    In that moment, I really believed that.

Chapter 5
Breathing In
    At least this time when I was charting out pills and doctor appointments, it wasn’t because of cancer. This time it was for travel. Two hepatitis shots, a tetanus shot, malaria pills, and two shelves of over-the-counter-oh-my-god-you’ll-catch-everything drugs later, and I was ready for India. I began packing three nights before I was to leave, partially because I was nervous and partially because I knew I’d have difficulty shoveling it all into only one suitcase. This did not seem to be the sort of trip where one should arrive with her entire closet in tow, nor did I think much of a wardrobe would be necessary. We’d be taken shopping shortly after arriving so we could purchase traditional, appropriate clothing for our volunteer time. Still, I had to bring something to wear, and it was hard to figure out what made sense. This was unlike any travel I’d done before.
    I was diligently eliminating any leather. (That would be rude, wouldn’t it? In a country that revered cows?) I bought my first pair of canvas TOMS Shoes and even managed to resist buying the sparkly silver ones in favor of a simple cornflower blue pair. I dug out a fabric purse I had in the closet and packed jeans, khakis, T-shirts. Then I unpacked a sundress, sandals, a silk blouse, and two tank tops.
    After a few hours of decision making, folding, unfolding, packing, unpacking, I decided to give it a rest. I had two more nights to get it right. I got dressed for bed and joined Chris.
    “Have you noticed Seamus’s breathing tonight?”
    I looked over at Seamus, lying curled up in his bed. “Not really. Why?”
    “I don’t know. It sounds funny to me. Shallow or something.”
    I walked over to Seamus’s bed and listened. Chris was right. Seamus was taking shorter breaths. “Did you just notice that tonight?”
    “No. I noticed it last night too, and when he was at the shop with me today.”
    “That’s not good. I guess I was too busy with all this India stuff.” I wanted to pet Seamus now, but I resisted. I didn’t want to wake him. Normally I noticed every change in Seamus’s behavior or body. I was shocked I hadn’t noticed this one.
    “I think maybe we should take him to Dr. Davis. Do dogs get colds?” Chris said.
    “I don’t think so.” I’d long ago learned not to panic with every lump, bump, or change in Seamus. I tried not to rush him to the vet constantly, though with his history that was often hard to do. Four months had passed since his eye surgery, and other than checkups for that, he’d been vet-free and doing fine. Up until that moment, he seemed healthy and happy. “I’ll call Dr. Davis’s office in the morning.”
    • • •
    When Dr. Davis examined Seamus and did chest X-rays, his response was swift and decisive. We needed to get Seamus to a specialist right away—and not the eye specialist. He was sending us back to the cancer center.
    My world stopped for a moment, but then I swung into action. I called the Veterinary Cancer Group where we’d first taken Seamus, and when I learned they had no available appointments for the next ten days, I called their other location. They had an appointment available the next day—the day I was supposed to fly to India.
    I walked into our bedroom and sat down on the bed, my packed luggage only a few feet away. I told Chris I’d made the appointment.
    “So that’s it. I’m not going to India,” I said.
    “You have to go. It’s all set. I can take Seamus,” Chris said.
    “No, this is serious. I can’t go if there is something seriously wrong with him. We’re not being sent to the cancer center because he has allergies.” I dropped my head into my hands.
    “I know. But I can handle it, and your trip