Lucas weighed Hunter one morning as the puppy wriggled and played on the scale. 20 lbs.; he'd been that weight for almost two weeks now — even upping the food hadn't made Hunter any bigger. Hunter playfully nipped at his fingers with those sharp puppy teeth, which is something he loved to do. Lucas had cuts and bruises all over his fingers but Hunter was so damn cute when he wanted to play, so he normally let him go crazy. Still, Lucas's aching hands needed a good break, so he took Hunter outside, letting the puppy down on the porch to run around the backyard. Hunter rushed past Diane, yipping and squeaking with his tiny voice.

His phone went off. Lucas looked down, replying to Persephone who'd been venting about her dad again. Not that he could blame her — Ronald was a total jack-off.

When he looked back up, he saw Diane laying beside the trailer, then turned his gaze to the rest of yard to see what Hunter was doing. His eyes scanned left to right but he didn't find the puppy anywhere. Probably went under the trailer. Lucas went down the steps and leaned over to peer underneath the trailer from afar. Weird, nothing under there. As he looked farther, thinking Hunter was perhaps behind the trailer instead, he noticed that the gate to the greenhouse was open.

"Oh shit."

He then called Hunter to try and get him to come over. Nothing. He hadn't the time to panic, deciding instead to whistle loudly. That got Diane to heel, but not Hunter. Of course. He was a horrible listener, which is why they've been needing to keep the gate closed. Lucas was going to be pissed if he found that dog belly-deep in the swampy waters.

That's what he came face-to-face to when he rounded the corner of the gate and looked near the door of the greenhouse. Just before the door, Hunter jumped around the swamp, splashing stagnant water all over the bog.

"Hunter, get the hell outta there," Lucas demanded, grabbing the puppy.

Hunter squirmed about, splashing mud all over Lucas's sleeves and down his pants. He brought the dog up to his chest, holding him with his belly facing out so he couldn't kick. Hunter licked the muck off of himself — great, now he'd need a bath before he made himself sick.

Lucas got to work, taking Hunter to the upstairs bathroom of the main house. He had to hold Hunter down on the side of the tub while he tried to achieve the right temperature, otherwise the pup would douse mud all over the bathroom, too. It was all a big game to the puppy, one that he must've been determined to win while making as much noise about it as he could. Diane, meanwhile, had figured out how to open doors and had been using her ability every chance she got, so she left the bathroom door wide open as she checked on her baby.

When the water was warm, he filled the tub up a few inches and cleaned the puppy; draining out the muddy water and having to start over a few times. He worked through his tiring arms and pruning fingers.

Eventually, after being splashed for the tenth time, he finished. As the last of the bathwater drained, Lucas searched for the towel. Only… He didn't bring one in the first place.

"Fuck," he muttered.

Something soft hit him in the back of the head and draped over his eyes. He tugged it off, now holding a towel in his hands.

"Forgettin' somethin'?" Zoe asked from the doorway.
"Yeah, thanks."
"Decided that Hunter needed a bath, huh?"
He rolled his eyes as he toweled Hunter off. "No. Hunter decided that on his own after he ran out the gate n' played in the bayou. Speakin' of, who in the hell left the gate open?"
"Shoot, sorry. Judith an' I went out there an' I guess we forgot to close up." Zoe tittered.
Lucas mocked her laugh. "Y'all just needed a romantic look at the swamp, did ya?"
"Don't knock it 'til you an' Pers try it."

When he was finished with Hunter, Lucas let the wriggling, irritated puppy go free, hearing his elephant stampede-like footsteps as he rushed past Zoe and ran downstairs, making a mad dash through the house. Zoe giggled and headed downstairs with Lucas behind. He retrieved his phone from his pocket on the way to the laundry room, reading the texts he'd gotten.

'Sorry,' Pers had texted about half an hour before (when the whole mess had started), 'didn't mean to just rant like that.'
Then ten minutes ago, she texted him again. 'You still there? Or did I scare you off?'
He chuckled gently. Every time Pers said something so cute and funny, it always made him feel better. This time was no different and he recounted the situation with a little humor in hindsight. 'Zoe left the back gate open so Hunter got into the bayou. Was just giving him a bath, now he's running around like a crazy dog.'

He threw his dirty jacket into the washing machine. Pants were still filthy, but he needed to go all the way to his room for new ones and fuck that.

Two days later in Lucas's old room, he and Hunter played tug-of-war with his flailing-arm stuffed monkey. Hunter stopped play for just a moment to sneeze, then jumped right back into it. How embarrassing would it have been had Persephone heard Lucas's genuine, gushing little "awww" in response? Hunter was too fucking cute. The tiny puppy went to bed after play time, cuddling up to Diane as they slept, giving Lucas the time he needed to focus on college work.

His sleep was slowly being interrupted by some weird noise. What the hell day was it? Was that his alarm already? Couldn't have been later than 5 AM; it was still dark outside, so what was going on? Once his mind woke up somewhat, he realized the noise was Diane's frantic crying and whimpering. His eyes shot open and he bolted upright, heart jumping when Diane screamed and whined louder. She ran out of the room, and as Lucas tossed the blankets off himself to follow her, he heard her crying downstairs. He didn't have time to think as he skipped every other step and slid around the corner on his socks. Diane's cries came from the living room and Lucas ran to her side, skidding to a stop across the hardwood.

Around the corner of the couch lay Hunter, sprawled out on the floor. His heart sunk immediately.

"Hunter?"

He dropped to his knees beside the puppy and grabbed Hunter by the chest, lifting his limp, rag doll-like body, heart racing when he felt no movement coming from inside Hunter's tiny, slumped body. Hunter's name came out of Lucas's mouth several more times as he rubbed the dog's back hard, then rubbed his chest, trying to facilitate any response, restart Hunter's breathing — do something. He laid Hunter across the couch, ear against the puppy's chest. There was no heartbeat, no struggle to breathe. Just nothing.

"Hunter, wake up," he said desperately, voice weak.

Rubbing the puppy's chest turned to gentle nudges, then to vigorous shakes, growing rougher and more dire with each moment that passed. Diane had gone quiet.

"What's goin' on?" asked Jack, voice gruff from sleep.
"Ma, Dad, it's Hunter, he's—" Lucas didn't want to say it. If he said it, it would become true, and he didn't want it to be. It was all a bad dream, it had to be, Hunter couldn't be— "Dead." They didn't feel like his words, didn't sound like his voice, especially not his more urgent, forlorn, "Oh my God, he's dead."

It wasn't real; not the situation and not the phone call Jack made to the vet, asking for instructions. Only the tech was available, who suggested taking him to the emergency vet. But the emergency vet was an hour away. An hour that Hunter didn't have. He was dead. And none of the chest compressions or checks for airway obstructions helped. 6 AM, and Hunter was completely gone.

Lucas kept the corpse with him for a while, wrapped in Hunter's favorite blanket. He'd texted Persephone 'come over', but she was still asleep and would be for another few hours. He used that time to sit alone in the living room, cradling Hunter's body and trying to make sense of everything. When Jack and Marguerite had gone to give him space, he'd let it all out into Hunter's blanketed body.

Now his aching, pounding mind couldn't believe what had happened. Looking down at Hunter's bulging, dead eyes felt unreal. He had to cover the puppy's head with the blanket — he couldn't look into those eyes; not as a failure who hadn't saved Hunter's life, hadn't been there in the pup's final moments. Hunter died without him, possibly in pain, possibly without frantic Diane at his side until much later. There was too much uncertainty, too much regret, and perhaps that's why his brain refused to believe it.

Lucas didn't wish to live in a reality that made him the guilty party, but so he did. He could've been there for Hunter, should've noticed something was wrong the night before when he'd had a sneezing fit, or before he went to bed when Hunter was cold. All he did was put a blanket over the pup and thought nothing more of it. He was a damn idiot for not doing anything, for not calling the vet, for not even telling Persephone who surely would've warned him.

He eventually found a box big enough to put Hunter inside, laying him down atop his small, puppy-sized bed and fitting the lid over it. Jack had been digging a grave in the late morning for the puppy, under the big tree beside Zoe's trailer. To distract himself and tell himself he wasn't completely useless, Lucas grabbed a shovel and helped dig the three-foot deep hole.

When Persephone had come over hours later, he couldn't look directly at her. He knew he was a mess of guilt-filled, tear-stained, reddened eyes — he didn't want her to see that, but he wanted her beside him. She'd made-up Hunter's box in Christmas wrapping and ribbon, dressing him up like a small present then binding it up in multiple layers of plastic wrap to keep bugs and animals out. The funeral-esque service that was held, burying the puppy, then traversing listlessly through the house to sit in the dining room didn't feel real.

He barely comprehended how he'd gotten to his old room but once he realized he was there, he let himself cry again. Even alone where no one could judge him, he felt judged by himself. He let Hunter die and now he blubbered like a weakling over his own incompetence. He deserved to be wracked with guilt.

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