Furever Enchanted, page 3
Looking again at Gigi’s mussy black fur sticking out in a few places, she researched dog grooming. It surprised Zuri that the shelter hadn’t done more to clean her up. The dogs online all looked like they were in excellent condition. The whole situation at the shelter was unusual. Her stomach still twisted in knots at the memory of Julianna rushing her out without even getting any of her information. Definitely not normal.
Zuri eventually stopped worrying and researching to leaf through the papers Julianna had left with her. She went online and scheduled a vet appointment at Paws and Claws. Luckily, they had an opening for that Friday. They were offering a free checkup with the voucher. Like the shelter, it was nearby. The reviews were positive. Mostly. A few complaints about overcharging here and there. One reviewer accused the clinic of killing their iguana. . .
A soft rumbling noise made Zuri almost leap off the couch. She looked toward Gigi’s bed. Unable to stay alert any longer, the dog had fallen asleep. Her snores continued to rumble through the living room. That would certainly take some getting used to. Especially if Gigi decided to sleep in Zuri’s room at night. Julianna should have given her some earplugs.
Unfortunately, the loud blaring ring of Zuri’s phone cut the nap short.
The name Mom flashed on Zuri’s phone screen. She blamed Donna for asking about her family the day before and reminding the universe that it had been far too long since her peace was shattered.
“Hello?” Zuri answered.
She felt her shoulders inching toward her ears as every muscle in her body tensed.
“Hi honey, it’s been a while, so I thought I’d call.” Noise in the background muffled her mother’s voice. The mingled voices of a crowd paired with the faint melody of a song she vaguely remembered hearing on the radio.
Honey. Now that she knew what kind of call it was going to be, she tried to relax a little.
“Where are you?” Zuri wasn’t really interested in the answer, but she knew, even if she didn’t ask, her mother would tell her. Their conversations were usually one-sided.
“At the airport. I’m heading to see your grandparents, but don’t tell them. It’s a surprise.”
Translation: her mother had broken up with her latest boyfriend, whom she had been living with, and was going to stay at her grandparents' house until she found somewhere else to go.
“I haven’t talked to them in years,” Zuri reminded her.
Her mother’s parents had never liked Zuri’s father. She was also pretty sure her mother was their least favorite child. While her mother was what they referred to as “a mess,” their favorite child, her Uncle Nick, was an even bigger mess, at least in her opinion. Needless to say, no one cared about her opinion.
It had been obvious to her growing up that they favored their other grandchildren over her. Sure, she got birthday cards, but they never came to visit her or called like they did her cousins. Even during the brief periods of time she’d lived with them over school breaks or summers so her mother could gallivant into a new relationship child free, there was always an invisible wall between her and her grandparents. A line drawn in the sand. She wasn’t sure if it was her they didn’t like, her parents, or a combination of the two.
“You should call them,” her mother chided.
“Did you need something? When does your flight board?” Zuri deflected. They weren’t having this argument again. If her grandparents wanted to talk to her, they had her number.
“Right.” Her mother took a breath. Here it was. “I was hoping you could lend me some money. Just this once. I promise I’ll pay you back.”
“How much do you need?” Zuri bit her cheeks to keep from sighing. It had only been six months since the last time her mother had “borrowed” money.
Her mother remained quiet on the other end, the noise from the busy airport in the background filling the silence.
“How much?” Zuri repeated, trying to keep her voice as neutral and judgment free as possible. She probably wasn’t doing a good job.
“Three thousand,” her mother admitted.
“What?” Zuri gaped. “Mom, I can’t afford to give you that kind of money!”
“You have at least five times that in the bank. I know you do,” her mom said accusingly. A flip had been switched.
“Yeah, and I have plans for that money.” Zuri felt her tongue scrape her canines as she tried to keep herself calm, to keep her voice level and emotionless.
“I always pay you back. Just let me borrow it,” her mom asked again.
“What do you even need three thousand dollars for?” Zuri knew she would not get the full answer, but she figured some was better than none.
“I just got behind on a few bills. That’s all.” Zuri could hear her mother’s tight-lipped line of a smile through the phone.
“I can send you a few hundred that you don’t have to pay back, but I can’t give you that much money, Mom. Not right now. Plus, I just got a dog and already spent way more on her than I was planning.” Zuri sighed.
“Why did you get a dog? You’re not even a dog person. You never liked any of the dogs we had when you were growing up,” her mother snarled.
That was true. But they had all been little yappy dogs who peed all over the apartments and followed her mother from room to room. None of them had lasted a year before they were given away or the door was accidentally left open and they ran off, never to be found again.
“Just because I didn’t like the dogs you picked out doesn’t mean I don’t like dogs.” Zuri closed her eyes. She didn’t have the energy to argue. Not after the sleepless night or strange shelter visit.
“Send me a picture,” her mother demanded. Zuri actually hadn’t taken any pictures of Gigi yet. Rather than argue, now seemed as good of a time as any. She pulled herself off the couch and crouched in front of Gigi, who eyed her phone camera wearily. She quickly snapped a picture and sent it to her mother before retreating to the couch.
“Isn’t that a Chow?” her mother stated more than asked. “Those dogs can kill you. You should return it.”
Zuri rolled her eyes.
“Even if I did, I still wouldn’t have three thousand dollars to send you, Mom,” Zuri stated, moving the conversation back to the real reason for her mother’s call.
“Don’t bother sending anything, then.” Her mother sniffed. “You’ve always been so selfish. Don’t call me crying when that dog bites you, either.”
Her mother hung up.
Sinking back against the couch cushions, Zuri pulled up her banking app and sent her mother three hundred, not three thousand dollars. A tenth of what she’d asked for. Her old therapist would give her a disapproving look, but Zuri couldn’t help it. If her mother was desperate enough to ask, she couldn’t help but give. It was toxic, and she knew it. Her mother would be fine whether she sent her money or not. She was always fine. The real reason Zuri sent the money was because if she didn’t send something, she would feel guilty. If she sent the money, she still felt like crap, but less guilty. A lose-lose situation.
Zuri looked over at Gigi, still snug in her luxury dog bed. Gigi looked back.
“I know dogs have excellent hearing, so assuming you heard any of that, just ignore her. I’m not returning you. You’re stuck with me.”
Chapter 4
Friday
Zuri sat upright, her thumb absently rubbing the leash in her hands. Gigi looked up at her nervously, her head and front paws peeking out from underneath the plastic chair where she hid. Clean, her coat shiny and brushed, she looked like a new dog.
Nervous that the vet and staff would think she was a bad dog mom, she took Gigi to the groomers that morning before her checkup. At first Gigi wouldn’t walk behind the counter with the groomer, so Zuri had pretended to walk with her for a few steps. When Gigi noticed Zuri hadn’t gone through the door to the back with her, she’d given her the most pointed and accusing glare Zuri had ever seen in a dog’s eyes. If looks could kill. . .
The groomer had a window where pet parents could watch, but seeing Gigi’s little legs quake in fear was too stressful for Zuri. She’d walked around the adjoined pet shop instead, looking for a reward for Gigi’s good behavior. Since food didn’t seem to interest Gigi, she grabbed a stuffed toy shaped like a duck and another shaped like a coffee cup, hoping the dog would like at least one of them.
A pink collar with darker pink flowers caught her eye. She added it to the cart without a second thought. Under it on the shelf was a matching harness. She grabbed an extra-large, hoping it would fit. The shelter had given Gigi a flimsy collar, but it was frayed and dirty. There was no telling how much longer it would last.
Only when she’d gotten to the register did she realize she should have paid more attention. While the harness was just a harness, the collar wasn’t a regular collar. A small, dime-sized GPS chip came embedded near the clasp. It cost three times more than what Zuri had expected. Gigi didn’t really need a GPS collar, but she was too embarrassed to ask the cashier to void the purchase. It didn’t help that she got the text from the groomer that Gigi was ready to be picked up right as she was checking out either. At least it was pretty.
“Gigi?” called a vet tech from the back door.
“We’re here.” Zuri stood and Gigi followed suit. This time Gigi walked behind Zuri though, instead of in front of her. Smarty-pants.
“Aw, she looks like a little bear,” the vet tech cooed before leading them to a small room.
“The doctor will be in soon. Let’s get her weight.” She pointed to a large floor scale.
Zuri coaxed Gigi to get on the scale. Gigi surprisingly obliged, but she kept her eyes trained on the vet tech. Anytime the woman took a step in Gigi’s direction, she backed up.
“Fifty-four pounds,” the tech wrote down Gigi’s weight. “I’m going to get her temperature. Can you hold her?”
“Sure,” Zuri replied on autopilot, a little off guard. While Gigi didn’t seem to mind her putting on her leash or petting her, Zuri had mostly tried to give the dog her space. She gently took a light hold of Gigi’s neck. When the dog squirmed at the vet tech's touch, she tightened her grip.
The vet tech successfully got Gigi’s temperature and left the room to inform the doctor that they were ready.
Zuri moved to sit in one of the chairs, and Gigi followed, diving beneath her once more. She leaned over and ran her hand between Gigi’s ears. First the groomer and then the vet, two places no dog ever wanted to go. Hopefully, Gigi wouldn’t hate her after today. It would suck if her own dog didn’t like her. Not that she was sure Gigi liked her much to begin with.
It didn’t take long for the door to open again. A thin woman, a couple inches taller than Zuri, walked in. She had short dark brown hair, pulled back in a low hanging ponytail. A few strands framed her face, hanging just below her jaw. Her matching dark brown eyes looked curiously from Zuri to Gigi beneath her bangs.
“You’re right, she looks just like a bear,” the woman turned to say to the vet tech, who rejoined the room and closed the door again.
“I’m Dr. Rodriguez,” the woman said to Zuri, holding her hand out for a handshake.
Zuri took her hand and shook it awkwardly. Handshakes were not her favorite thing. She always worried her hands were sweaty, or clammy, or both.
“This is Gigi and her new mom, Zuri,” the vet tech introduced them.
“Oh, I’m not her mom. Her caretaker I guess,” Zuri replied.
“Caretaker?” Dr. Rodriguez raised an eyebrow. “So, she’s not your dog?”
“No, she’s mine.” Zuri was confused.
“Then you’re her mom.” Dr. Rodriguez got down on the floor in front of Gigi, pulling some treats out of her pocket.
“Oh,” she exclaimed, finally understanding what the doctor was getting at. “I just don’t like calling myself her mom. Because you know, I’m not actually her mom. I like to think of us more like friends or roommates.”
Dr. Rodriguez snorted a little before she smiled at Gigi, offering her a treat.
“I love her collar and the matching harness. It’s cute,” Dr. Rodriguez stated. “I see you’re here for a check-up. Is there anything you’re concerned about?”
“I haven’t been able to get her to eat anything. I adopted her a few days ago and all she’ll have is water.”
The doctor’s smile turned into a straight line.
“Has she had any bowel movements?”
“She’s peed, but hasn’t gone number two,” Zuri answered.
“Any vomiting, trying to vomit, or has she been licking the roof of her mouth a lot?”
Zuri shook her head.
“Can you try walking over here? I’d like to examine her abdomen. I need her to stand up.” Dr. Rodriguez stood and stepped a few feet back, giving Gigi some space. The vet tech did the same.
Zuri stood and walked in front of the door the vet tech had come through from the back of the office. Gigi looked at her in panic and scrambled out from under the chair to follow. When she reached her, Zuri knelt down and pet Gigi on the head.
“It’s okay Gigi, the doctor’s just going to check you out.”
Dr. Rodriguez knelt down next to Gigi again, placing her hand out for the dog to sniff. Gigi stared at it and then turned to look at Zuri as if to say, is she for real?
The doctor slowly pet Gigi on the head and scratched behind her ears. When Gigi didn’t snap at her or growl, she moved her hands down her body and felt around her stomach and abdomen. Zuri kept her hands around Gigi’s neck just in case.
“Everything feels normal.” She paused, looking at the bald spots in Gigi’s fur. “Did she have these when you got her?”
“Yes.”
“Can you try opening her mouth? I just want to look at her gums.”
“You want me to do it?” Zuri questioned.
“Chows are usually better handled by their owners. While she’s been good so far, I don’t want to put her at risk of getting an unnecessary bite on her record. She seems to trust you, and I just need a quick peek.”
Zuri was not as confident as the doctor that Gigi trusted her, though she didn’t think Gigi would bite her. So far, during their time together, she hadn’t done anything that could remotely be considered aggressive. Nervously, she complied with the request and gently opened Gigi’s mouth. Gigi wasn’t happy about it and tried to shake Zuri’s hands off her face, but she eventually caved and stayed still.
“I don’t see any broken teeth and her gums look good. How old is she?” Dr. Rodriguez asked.
“I don’t know. They didn’t give me a lot of information at the shelter.” Zuri shrugged.
“Which shelter?”
“Tails.”
“They usually try to get a lot of information out of previous owners.” Dr. Rodriguez looked puzzled.
“To be honest, it was really weird. She didn’t even take any of my information before putting Gigi in the back of my car. At least, nothing that’s usually important.” Zuri frowned.
“Julianna?” A light of recognition went off in Dr. Rodriguez’s eyes.
“Yeah. I think that was her name,” Zuri mumbled.
“I’ve known her for a while. She does this sometimes. If they’re full and going to transfer a dog into a bigger shelter or consider euthanasia, she sometimes just gives animals away.” The doctor stood and went to the computer on the wall next to the exam table. She began typing her findings into Gigi’s chart.
“And they haven’t fired her?”
“She’s a volunteer.” Dr. Rodriguez shrugged, continuing to type.
Zuri didn’t know what to say. It was still weird that the shelter hadn’t banned her or something. Didn’t they need the adoption fees? Wasn’t this a liability issue?
“I’d guess Gigi’s about five or six years old, but you can buy a DNA test kit that will give you some more information.”
“Why won’t she eat?”
“We can do an X-ray to check for a blockage and maybe run some blood work, but it could just be that she’s still getting used to her new home. Have you tried chicken or something high value?”
“Just wet food, dry food, peanut butter, and some pizza crust last night, but she turned up her nose to everything.”
“We’ll get you an estimate for the X-ray and you can decide what you want to do.”
“What do you recommend?” Zuri said, not worried about the cost. Gigi’s insurance wouldn’t kick in yet, but Zuri’s tech job provided her with a cushion for emergencies.
“I think you should take her home and try some higher value foods first. She doesn’t seem to be in pain and otherwise looks pretty healthy. You’ve only had her a few days, and we don’t know what kind of situation she came from. It can take dogs a while to adjust.”
“What about the bald spots?” That wasn’t normal, in Zuri’s unprofessional opinion.
“It’s not uncommon for dogs to develop bald spots when they’re in a stressful environment for long periods of time. Did Julianna say how long she’d been at the shelter?”
“No, she didn’t really tell me much at all. This dog definitely wasn’t on their website, though. Julianna had to go to the back of the shelter to get her.”
Dr. Rodriguez pursed her lips and scowled. She sighed before turning to her computer and typing in a few more notes.
“I don’t think it’s anything serious. She hasn’t been scratching at the spots, has she?”
“No.” She hadn’t, Zuri realized.
Dr. Rodriguez locked the computer and turned to Zuri. “For today, I just recommend giving her some basic vaccines. We can and should also do a heartworm test. We’ll call you, and if she’s negative, you can get her on a heartworm prevention. Because of the hair loss and lack of appetite, we can do some blood work if you want. If she still hasn’t eaten in a couple days after you try something higher value or her mood seems to decline, bring her back and we’ll do an X-ray.”
All of that seemed to make sense. Zuri appreciated that they weren’t pushing the most expensive tests or trying to sell her stuff she didn’t need.
