Keith woke to the sound of the doorknob turning. Still sore, he didn’t move from the curled position he was in, eyelids only open enough to see his parents looking in from the door in the darkened hallway.
“He stood still for seven shots, Rich. For a boy who hates shots, he was perfectly still and only really whined once. Seven shots! Plus a microchip insertion – that’s when he whined. No wonder he didn’t wake up for dinner. Otis said he checked on him while I was getting the dog license and he was asleep then as well. The vet was very careful, but to see him poked and prodded like that… I nearly didn’t keep it together, Rich. When she asked about the flea treatment… I… I just accepted whatever she recommended, barely understanding what it entailed. A passive acceptance - exactly what I tell people in the hospital not to do.”
“I understand, Elle. I had the same problem when we got the leash and harness. It