The Fox and the Hound

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"Mama?"

"Hmm," Carol hummed absently, keeping one hand steady on the steering wheel and reaching the other up to adjust the Honda's rear view mirror to get a better glimpse of her seven-year-old daughter. The darn thing wobbled, almost fell off completely in her hand, and she bit back a sigh at yet another needless reminder that the old relic she was driving was a better fit for the local junk yard than a dependable mode of transportation to and from their little middle of nowhere house of the last few months. The knowledge that its gas mileage was second to none did little to comfort her on days like this, and she fought a downward tug of her own lips as she eyed the forlorn pout on her baby girl's mouth and the fat tears welling in her hazel eyes. "What is it, Sophia?"

Sophia ducked her head, and a tear rolled off the tip of her freckled nose. "I don't want Daisy to die."

Carol felt her own throat grow uncomfortably tight, and it took her a moment to respond, to try to ease Sophia's fears. "Oh, Sweetie. Daisy isn't going to die." Even as she said the words, she wasn't completely sure they were the truth, and she bit her lip, worried how her little girl would react if the worst came to pass and the sweet Golden retriever that'd become such a big part of their small family unit in so short a time were to cross that rainbow bridge. The poor dog had been lethargic for about a week now, watching them go about their everyday business with liquid brown eyes and rarely lifting her heavy head from her paws. Yesterday, when Carol had come home early from the clinic to find her in the same spot with her food bowl untouched, had been the last straw, and Daisy was taking the trip to work with her today. Convincing Sophia she didn't need to miss school to go see Dr. Greene with them both had been—and continued to be—a challenge. "She's going to be just fine. She is. Dr. Greene is the best vet around these parts, and he's taken care of Daisy before, you know."

"He has?" Sophia sniffled, lovingly combing her small fingers through the dog's thick fur and causing her to whine and burrow her head more deeply in her lap. She shrugged a skinny shoulder, rubbing her damp cheek against the pale yellow strap of her sundress. "Before she came to live with us?"

Carol nodded. "Before she came to live with us." Daisy had been surrendered by her owner not long after Carol started working at the veterinary clinic, pets having not been allowed in the assisted living community chosen for Mrs. McLeod by her children after her hip surgery. She'd still been a little bit adrift, happy in her newly divorced state from Ed but unmoored all the same, and still looking for her sense of self again. She'd stumbled upon a kindred spirit in the friendly Golden that dutifully wagged her tail for each prospective new owner she met but continued to search with those deep, soulful brown eyes of hers for the old woman who'd raised her from a puppy. Carol had made it official and brought the dog home with her so they could embark on their fresh start together, Sophia the balm to both their aching spirits, and everything had been fine. Until now. Finally releasing the sigh she'd been holding back, she offered her distraught daughter a compromise as a means of reassurance. "If Daisy needs you, I'll pick you up early from school. Okay?"

Sophia tucked her chin close to her chest and nodded, swiping at her tears with the back of one hand. She scratched behind Daisy's ears with the other one, her little voice trembling and thin as she agreed. "Okay."

The elementary school came into view with its assembly of cars and parents handing off children excited for the fast approaching summer. Young Carl Grimes spotted them before his mother did, breaking free from her and sprinting toward their old clunker, his oversized backpack bouncing against the backs of his short legs. He skidded to a stop just before he reached them, and his blue eyes were impish as he pressed his palms against the dusty back window, making silly faces at Sophia, each one more comical than the last.

Her little girl's giggles were welcome music to Carol's ears, and she couldn't help but smile when she rolled down her window to wave at her winded friend as she approached.

"Carol, hi," Lori waved back. Shaking her head at her son, she scolded him, her expression an odd mixture of stern censure and tenderness. Strands of sweaty dark hair stuck to the harried mother's lips, and she swept them aside with thin fingers. "Carl, how many times do I have to tell you?"

Carl heaved a sigh altogether too heavy for his small stature. "Sorry, Mom. I won't do it again."

Lori laughed, and her glittering gaze met Carol's knowing eyes over the top of her son's tousled head. "I've heard that one before." Giving his shoulders a small squeeze, she ducked her head to smile at Sophia. "You look pretty today, Sophia. Doesn't she, Carl?"

"Guess so," Carl mumbled reluctantly with a dip of his head, his shoes suddenly of utmost interest to him.

Sophia beamed, her earlier tears nothing more than faint silver streaks against her flushed cheeks. "Thank you. You look pretty, too."

Lori glanced down at her wrinkled tee-shirt and faded jeans and smirked at Carol. "Is it too early to start planning the wedding?"

Too young to fully grasp the implications of her statement but still utterly embarrassed, Carl protested again. "Aww, Mom."

Carol laughed and kissed Sophia's smiling face when she leaned over the window's ledge, Carl and Lori waiting nearby to escort her the rest of the way, only the pale grip of her fingers hinting at her lingering worry for Daisy. "A promise is a promise."

"I know, Mama."

"We'll see you after school, Sophia. Try not to worry so much. Okay?"

"Okay," Sophia echoed, with a tiny parting wave.

"After school," Carol said again, giving Daisy another glance in the back seat and sending up a silent prayer. "After school," she repeated one more time to herself as she followed the creeping caravan of cars back to the main highway. "Don't make a liar out of me, Daisy," she murmured. "Please, girl. Don't break my baby's heart."

Business at the clinic was already hopping by the time Carol got there so she made Daisy a blanket pallet in the little cubby hole beneath her desk. Ophelia, one of their blood donor cats, promptly curled up in a tight furry ball beside her, and the pair dozed for much of the day while Carol answered the phone and took care of the customers' various needs. It was well after lunch before Dr. Greene managed to grab a few minutes to examine Daisy, and it took Carol and T-Dog both to coax the dog from the comfort of her shared cave.

Daisy whined when T-Dog lifted her onto the cool metal table but otherwise didn't protest, immediately collapsing into a disinterested heap.

Dr. Greene pulled up a stool and scooted it to the exam table's edge, peering into her liquid brown eyes and lifting her chin with an aged hand. "Seems you've been a bit of a lazy Daisy lately, nothing like your normal self. Care to explain yourself, young lady?"

When the dog barely perked her ears for one of her favorite people, Carol felt the burn of tears at the back of her eyes and bent to bury her face in the Golden's shaggy neck. She swallowed hard against the crushing sense of dread that threatened to consume her, ashamed at the re-emergence of the oft-felt emotion in what were supposed to be happier times. Her shoulders shook slightly beneath the offered comfort of T-Dog's hand, and she lifted red-rimmed eyes to Dr. Greene's kindly face when she realized he was speaking to her. "I'm sorry. I didn't hear what you said."

Dr. Greene calmly repeated his question. "She eating alright? Have you noticed any change in her appetite?"

Carol straightened, shooting T-Dog a small look of gratitude over her shoulder. "Not as much as usual. Some days she barely eats anything at all." Absently stroking Daisy's back as she talked, she continued, "She's even thrown up a few times." She bit her lip against the questions that wanted to spill forth when Dr. Greene scratched out a few notes in Daisy's chart. "But only three or four times, and not very much. I didn't think much about it at the time. Should I have?"

Dr. Greene didn't make her wait long, answering her with a quick jerk of his head. "Not necessarily. Have you caught her eating any grass? It's not uncommon for dogs to ingest grass to induce vomiting when they have an upset stomach."

Carol frowned and shook her head.

"Have you changed her food in any way? Perhaps young Sophia might have slipped her some scraps from her own dinner? Certain foods that are okay for humans to consume are quite toxic to dogs."

"No and no. Sophia knows better than that." Carol rubbed a tired hand over her face. They'd had a long talk, she and Sophia, about the commitment and many responsibilities that owning a furry friend entailed before she even brought Daisy home. In some ways, it felt like a curious prelude to parenting, but she hadn't felt the need to tell her seven-year-old that.

"But someone else might not," Dr. Greene sagely pointed out. "Has anyone other than you or Sophia been feeding Daisy her meals?"

Carol sighed, watching the old man's expression intently for any hint of what he was thinking. "Daisy rarely goes anywhere without one or both of us with her, Dr. Greene." Her thoughts strayed to the neighbors, and their overgrown maze of a yard, but only fleetingly. Sophia was forbidden to go over there, and if it weren't for the rusted old Ford that made an occasional appearance out front, Carol would swear the place was deserted, left for ruin like her fixer-upper clearly had been. She shook those thoughts from her head when Dr. Greene stood up and set his chart aside, touching Daisy with gentle, learned hands.

Daisy whined but readily slumped to her side to allow his inspection, and the old vet paused in his palpation when he reached the dog's belly, a furrow of concentration forming on his forehead.

Carol couldn't help but press him for answers. "What is it? Have you found a growth? Oh God, it's cancer. I can't…treatments are so expensive, and I wouldn't want her to suffer. Sophia's going to be devastated." The tears that had threatened earlier returned with a vengeance, flooding her eyes and blurring her vision so much so that Dr. Greene's benign face was virtually unrecognizable to her when he reappeared in front of her and folded her in his fatherly embrace.

"T, give us a minute?"

The door opened and closed behind T-Dog with a soft snick, and Carol was barely aware of the opportunistic Ophelia streaking in and snaking around her trembling legs in a quest for affection. She pressed her nose into the soft fabric of the old man's shirt, and let the steady thump of his heart beneath her ear lull her into some small semblance of calm. She sniffled quietly as he began to talk.

"It's not a growth. Least not the kind you're worried about," the old man mumbled into the curls of her hair. "Don't be so quick to jump to conclusions, young lady."

Carol lifted her head from his chest. "But I don't understand. What other…oh." Her blue eyes widened as the puzzle pieces started to fall into place, and she glanced over to Daisy before staring up at the smiling vet in wonder. "You're saying…Daisy is…she can't be."

"Oh, but she is," Dr. Greene chuckled. "Carol, how do you feel about becoming a grandmother at your young age?"

Equipped with a brand new bag of premium dog food from the local PetCo and one very excited little girl, Carol pulled in to her gravel driveway that evening only to find out she wasn't the first one home. A sleek black Lexus stuck out like a sore thumb, and Andrea climbed out of it before Carol had a chance to park and cut her ignition, her rumpled black blazer draped over her shoulder.

Sophia was quick to unbuckle and throw aside her seat belt, scrambling from the back seat like a shot. "Andrea! Guess what?"

The rising prosecutor smiled when Sophia wound her skinny arms around her waist and carded an affectionate hand through her hair. "What?"

Sophia positively vibrated with happiness, and Carol knew already sleep would be a hit or miss prospect for her daughter. Andrea's unexpected visit compounded with the news of Daisy's condition was going to make her own job as an authority figure tonight a thankless one, and she didn't look forward to it at all. Unclipping the Golden's leash, she bent to retrieve the bag of dog food. The irrational thought that it should weigh more considering its cost briefly crossed her mind, but she shook it away in the guise of acknowledging Andrea with a quick nod.

"Daisy's going to be a mama! Dr. Greene said she's having puppies!"

Andrea greeted Sophia's announcement with the appropriate measure of wonder, her pale eyes rounding and her generous mouth pulling into an even wider smile, and Carol loved her for it.

"Puppies? Really?"

"Really," Sophia replied, bouncing on the balls of her feet and twisting the yellow skirt of her sundress between her restless hands. "And you know what else? It's a secret."

Andrea couldn't help grinning at the little girl's obvious exuberance, even as her voice dropped to something of a stage whisper. "Tell me."

"Carl's mama is going to have a baby too."

"Sophia!" Carol cried out in surprise, her daughter's little divulgence news to her. "Secrets are called secrets for a reason."

Sophia shrugged her tiny shoulders and mumbled an apology, catching her fingers in Daisy's collar as the dog loped past her and clattering up the creek stone steps with her. Kneeling, she peeled back the welcome mat, producing a shiny silver key and easily fitting it in the locked door before scooting inside.

Carol could practically hear the alarm bells going off inside of Andrea's elaborately coifed blond head. "It's for emergencies. Sophia's had to pee since we left the pet store." She smirked. "I don't know about you, but I count that as an emergency."

The humor of her comment was obviously lost on her lawyer. Her friend, too, apparently. Andrea didn't even crack a smile before launching into a well-meaning lecture about safety and trusting too much in strangers. "You've lived here three months already, and you haven't even met your next door neighbors yet. Don't you think that's a little bit strange?"

Carol sighed, feeling the insistent fingers of a headache starting to strum behind her eyes. "They're not serial killers, Andrea."

"How do you even know? Did you learn nothing from Ed?"

The back and forth persisted over dinner, the tension crackling so thick between them at times that Sophia barely did more than pick at her grilled cheese sandwich and twirl her spoon through her soup. It was a relief when Andrea finally said her goodbyes, hugging them both and promising to continue fighting Ed's appeal with every resource available to her. The sun was just beginning to lower in the sky and Sophia had succumbed to an exhausted slumber on the couch beside Daisy when Carol heard it—a light scratching at the door. Recognition and understanding washed over her when she opened it to a vaguely familiar black Lab, and she knew without a doubt she was staring at the proud papa of Daisy's impending litter of puppies. In that moment, the various stresses of the day became too much for Carol to handle, and they crashed all around her, filling her with a sense of righteous anger. "You," she huffed. "I should have known. Go on. Go home. I think you've done quite enough."

"Mama?" Sophia sleepily inquired. "Someone here?"

Sliding her feet into her sandals, Carol pocketed her keys, grabbing the door knob in hand and turning the lock. "Go back to sleep, Sweetie. Mama will be back before you know it."

"Okay, Mama," Sophia slurred, already halfway to dreamland again, Daisy's thick fur clenched in her small fingers.

"You take care of her," Carol pointed at Daisy when she lifted her head to whine at her. "I need to have a little talk with the keeper of the father of your children. You didn't get into this mess by yourself." Closing the door behind her, she crossed her arms across her chest and glared at the Lab, ignoring the responding throb of her heart when the dumb animal merely started to thump his tail at her in a friendly, unconcerned rhythm. Shaking her head at herself, she sighed and hooked her fingers around the dog's threadbare collar, searching for and finding a faded metal name tag. The dog's tongue darted out to lap at her wrist when she started to pull her hand away, and Carol felt a little bit more of the ice around her heart melt away. "Alright. Maybe it's not all your fault either."

The dog barked and started up a furious wag of its tail in response.

Rolling her eyes, Carol held out her hand. "After you, Charlie."

Just a little something I thought I'd post while I polish up and finish the newer chapters of The Breakfast Club. Chapters 8 & 9 are going swimmingly, lol. It's chapter 7 I'm having trouble with, of course.

Hope you enjoyed this little nugget of madness.

It goes without saying...none of the characters, save the dogs, belong to me. And I'm definitely not making money off of anything that I write. This is all in fun, and I should have been in bed a couple hours ago. :)

Feedback is love.

Thanks so much for reading!