Chapter 4: Kibble Scoop

Nonna turned the TV off with the remote.

"That boy," she said. "I told you. Too many teeth when he smiles."

Elio was looking at the dark screen.

"Now the whole city's looking for the man in your van," he said.

"Then they'll find a vet who went to work," I said. "I open at eight tomorrow."

On Monday morning, I opened at eight.

Tino stood outside the clinic door in his windbreaker with his arms folded.

He'd taken two allergy pills in the car and he still sneezed every time the door opened.

By ten, my waiting room was full.

Nobody was sick.

The old lady with the beagle had been in for its shots in March.

The poodle in the corner was there for a nail trim it didn't need.

Everyone on Mayfield Road had seen the noon news.

They sat with their dogs on their laps and whispered and watched me.

"Don't look at them," Dina said at the front desk.

"I'm not."

"You're looking at them like they're all due for an anal gland expression."

I laughed for the first time in two days.

Pope sat on the desk between us and judged everyone.

At 10:40 the bell rang, and the whispering stopped.

Trent came in first, in his detective's suit, with his badge on his belt.

His mother came in on his arm, in a navy dress and pearls, the way she dressed for a funeral Mass.

Behind them came the bank officer from April, holding a folder against his chest.

The whole waiting room turned to watch.

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