Chapter Forty-two

Pax doesn’t like it when the three humans are in separate places. Some herd-dog instinct survives in him and he’s only really happy when the three of them find themselves together. However, that isn’t the usual dynamic, and the dog has had to content himself with dividing his time unequally. He knows that his primary function now is to stay with Rick. That’s a role he loves and is proud to have. He delights in being able to carry out Rick’s requests and it is his best task ever to absorb Rick’s darkness into his fur. But he really likes it when he can pester Rick into going outside and throwing the ball for him like he used to. The ball doesn’t go as far as it did long ago, when they’d play in the park and Pax might have to run half the length of the field to get the ball, but it is the only time Rick seems like the old Rick. If, in the old days, Pax might take the ball and run away, playing his version of keep away while Rick chased him, laughing and cursing, he knows better than that now and is willing to return the ball to Rick with dependable speed. Throw, catch, return, over and over, until Rick hands the ball to Francesca and Keller wheels him back into the house. Pax is never ready to quit the game, and he tries not to let his disappointment show. He trails along, hoping that maybe Keller will pick up the game later.

The good news is that Francesca and Keller seem willing to be in the same room together a lot more now. It’s easier, not having to go from living room to garage all afternoon long while Francesca irons and Keller reads. Now they sit together, reading and talking, in the living room while Rick naps in his room. Pax settles on the braided rug and dozes, listening to their low voices. He doesn’t understand one word, but the soft human vocalizations lull him. Francesca’s voice has lost some of the tautness he’d grown used to hearing. Keller is using his voice more. They vocalize like crooning littermates, and Pax enjoys the sound of effortless companionship. He’s one of them, Keller’s sock-covered toes scratching at his belly, Francesca’s fingertips finding the nirvana place at the base of his tail. Good boy, Pax. They smile over him, pleased with him. He’s keeping everyone happy.

He is a good boy and life is sweet.