Catching a Second Wind

Ben said goodbye to his Wednesday evening appointment and went back to his office to transfer his notes to his computer. He let Freud out of her cage first, his sweet girl climbing up to her usual perch on his shoulder. He stopped in the kitchen, too, grabbing a couple of treats for Freud and some cookies from Mrs. Wilson for himself. She spoiled him and he was going to get fat.

He'd just about finished typing up his notes when the phone rang. ''Ben Malone.''

''I... Uh... I'm sorry to bother you. It... It's Dakota St. Ama.'' The voice was raw, upset.

Oh, man, it didn't sound good. Poor guy. ''Hi Dakota,'' he said softly. ''What's wrong?''

''I... I... Uh. I had to put one of my pups down. Lennon dug under the fence. He got into poison. I... I'm sorry. I should go.''

''Oh, no, Kota. Not one of your own. I'm so sorry. Don't go. I'd like to help if I can.''

''I... He was hurting. I couldn't not.''

''Of course not. It's the most humane thing to do.'' He looked at his watch, almost 9 pm, but he didn't have any clients until afternoon tomorrow. ''Where are you? Would you like me to come to you?''

''I'm home. At Mike's house. I... I need a beer and to clean this shit up. My poor baby, he bled everywhere...'' A soft sob sounded.

Jesus. That just wasn't right. ''You shouldn't have to clean that up by yourself, Kota. Tell me how to get there?'' The directions were straightforward, simple, outside of town about fifteen minutes. ''Listen to me, Kota. I want you to go outside and wait for me on the front porch. You have a front porch, right? If not just sit on the lawn or something and wait for me. You don't have to clean that up by yourself, okay? I'll be there soon.''

''Okay. I'm sorry, Ben. I'm sorry. I didn't know who else to call. Annie was crying and crying...''

''It's okay, Kota. I told you to call, didn't I? I did.'' He gathered his keys, a change of clothes, his razor and toothbrush, throwing them into a backpack as he talked to Kota -- he didn't know how late it was going to get or how much he was going to drink and he figured better safe than sorry. He put Freud into her cage and checked the water and food, both were fine. ''I'm going to have to hang up now, okay? So I can drive? You call back if you need to before I get there, okay?''

''Yeah. Yeah, I... Yeah.'' The phone went dead in his hand. Shit.

He drove like a maniac, surprised he didn't get stopped by the cops. He was relieved when he turned down the drive to see someone on the front porch. Kota was sitting, rocking a little, a bottle of whiskey beside him.

He parked and got out, sitting next to Kota, hand on the man's knee.

''Hey.'' Those thin cheeks were wet, eyes red and empty. ''Sorry to get you out so late.''

''It's not a problem, Kota. I'm glad I can be here to help.'' He gave into his impulse and pulled the man into a hug. Kota was stiff for a second, then melted into him, sobbing hard, thin shoulders shaking. He stroked Kota's back, feeling just awful and wishing there was more he could do. ''That's good, Kota. Let it all out. It's okay.''