Bay's Wish [ONC 2024]

01 - The Vet

Bay and I were best friends. She was the peanut to my butter and I was the chicken to her rice. As promised, we grew old together. Well, I grew old. Bay seemed to never age. While white fur had taken over my once-brown muzzle, her dark hair remained the same.

"Hugo, walkies!" Bay called from the front door of our apartment and jingled my collar. My ears perked up much quicker than my legs did. I slowly rose to my paws and padded over to where she waited with eager anticipation. Bay loved walkies. I did, too, even though it hurt my legs when we accidentally went too far.

"Good boy, Hugo."

Usually, my tail would be wagging up a storm. I never quite gained control over that infernal thing on my behind, but in recent years, it had settled down on its own. Maybe it was just as tired as I was.

The collar clipped around my neck and I followed her into the warm outdoors. The smell of Spring filled the air and I sniffed for hints of rain and worms. There were still so many new smells to explore, even after living in our new home for over a year. After Bay saw that I had trouble getting up all the stairs in our last home, she found us this new one that let us walk right out the front door.

We went straight to the grass—my favorite place to walk. The grass was much more gentle beneath my paws than the sidewalk. Even though my legs tired quickly, I kept my eyes, nose, and ears at attention for danger. There were no squirrels in sight or scent, but rhythmic footsteps approached from a distance. Lifting my head, I spotted a tall figure quickly approaching. Even though my vision was not what it used to be, I knew it was a human man.

The fur on my back stood on end as the male human jogged towards Bay. A growl emanated from my throat, prompting Bay to shorten my leash. Bay sometimes tensed and smelled of fear when unfamiliar human men crossed her path. She did not like them, and therefore, neither did I.

My growl lingered until the human man passed by, but I tracked him until he was far enough behind us. Then our walk continued.

By the time we got home, the walk had, in fact, been too long. Not only did my legs and paws ache, but so did everything else, which was unusual after a walk. Even the couch looked too high, so I settled on the floor next to my trusty Squeaky Duck.

Squeaky Duck had seen better days, as had I, but he had been with me since the day Bay brought me home with her. His matted fur and limp body resembled that of a mangy squirrel I caught once. He squeaked his last squeak many years ago, but I loved him regardless.

Bay paced around our apartment, gathering critical food supplies to sit with me in front of the television. When she saw that I could not get on the couch, she joined me on the floor, keeping one hand over my neck and scratching the way that made my leg kick.

Unfortunately, the scratches did not work their usual magic, and neither did the cold wood floor against my belly. I hurt more than I usually did.

When Bay called me for dinner, my body simply did not move. Even if it could, I was not hungry, despite refusing breakfast earlier in the day. So I laid like a furry lump on the floor with Squeaky Duck joining me in solidarity.

"Hugo?" Bay called from my food and water bowls again. When I failed to answer, she stepped into view. I let out a long huff to tell her I was not interested.

But Bay being Bay, she carried my food and water bowls next to my bed, picked me up, and rested my old bones against the luxury pillow.

"We'll make a vet appointment soon," Bay said as she rubbed my ears.

I sighed out of my snout. For the first time, my achy body prevented me from objecting.

Bay continued her pets while we watched a movie together. She always chose the ones that made her cry. Not just cry, but sob. Loudly. I licked the water off her face, even though it did not taste like water. But at least it always made her smile.