The Kennels, Chapter 2

2.

At first Tom made excuses. The dog was acting weird because he had been at the kennels. Different place, different people, lots of unknown dogs. A couple of weeks later, the dog was still acting weird. It was subtle. He was quiet, still as a lizard. He moved more like a cat than like a seven-year-old labrador, and glared around without blinking. When he took him for a walk, instead of pulling and trying to sniff everything, the dog would walk calmly next to him and watch. When they bumped into another dog, he would be groaned at, but he would never retort. He just glared.

Tom was alarmed. He could not ignore it and he could not explain it. He couldn’t get rid of the disturbing feeling that this was not his dog.

One night, Tom was suddenly waken up by the sound of a high-pitched moan, one single sound. It was pain or anxiety and made Tom’s heart sink. He jumped off the bed and stumbled downstairs. He found Baloo sitting upright, stiff as a statue of Anubis, and looking at him with an expression that Tom could only describe as spiteful.

The morning after he took the dog to the veterinary. All he could really say was “he’s acting weird.” The vet did tests and took samples. He was even tempted to leave the dog there overnight. When he realised how eager he was to get rid of him, he made himself take Baloo home.

When the vet got back at him, she sounded funebre. Tom rushed to the practice, Baloo with him.

-Baloo has a tumour. –said the vet, with a motherly tone. –In his abdominal cavity. It’s very big. We could try and remove it, but a tumor this size... The most compassionate thing would be...

-To put him to sleep. –said Tom, too shocked to decide what he was feeling. –It’s the cancer the cause of him acting so strangely?

-Well, it could be. A tumour this big must surely be causing him pain. And perhaps the hormones...

Tom didn't believe her.

-I need some time. –he said after a moment.

-Sure. Take him home and, well, take your time.

-I’d rather he stayed. –said Tom all too quickly. And felt obliged to explain –In case he is in pain. You can look after him better, can’t you?

She invited Tom to bid his dog goodnight. Tom cleared his throat and approached the animal. Dog and human stared at each other with obvious mistrust. The vet thought it was very weird, but didn’t say a word.

Once he arrived home, Tom felt the emptyness of the house and struggled between sadness and relief. Mostly he felt guilty. He told himself that the tumor explained everything. He battered himself for his lack of compassion. He went back to the vet’s the next morning with the firm purpose to look after the dog until suffering became too much.

His resolution crumbled when he faced those brown reddish eyes, cold as ice, that seemed to tell “I know what you are planning”. He signed there and then to have the dog put to sleep, cremated and disposed of.

A few days later, still in shock everytime he came back from work to an empty house, a man came to him.

‘Your dog died of cancer, right?’ he said, out of the blue.

‘Who are you?’ was all Tom could reply.

‘My dog had cancer too, and he also caught it at Ickfield!’ said the man, as if that cleared everything.

Tom didn’t say “you don’t catch cancer”.

‘How do you know?’

‘We go to the same vet. Well, I used to go to a different one, but never again.’

‘What’s this all about?’

‘Look, this is what happened to me. When we went to Gran Canaria we left the dog to the kennels at Ickfield. When he came back he was all strange. A couple of months later there was blood in his poo, so we took him to the vets, the old one. They told me he had cancer. My missus wouldn’t have it put to sleep, so they operated. The dog died in surgery apparently. The vet said he’d never seen anything like it. He said he would like to take the case to a science congress or something. I asked to see what he was talking about. He showed me this’ he fumbled for his mobile phone. ‘You don’t have a week stomach do you?’ said, protecting the screen with the palm of his hand.

‘What are you talking about?’

The man showed him the mobile’s screen. At first Tom didn’t understand what he was looking at. Suddenly he realised, and gave a start.

‘Oh my god.’ He said, suddently feeling ill. ‘What is this?! Are these...?’

‘Yes’, said the man, triumphantly, satisfied with the reaction of his audience.

‘But, dear god... It has eyes!’