Side Effects May Vary

We’d never had any pets except for the occasional hamster when I was a kid, but Mom had known Allyster for as long as she’d been a lawyer. He’d been her first client back when she practiced estate law. Now she did general practice, but he’d followed her to her new firm because he liked her so much. He always sent my parents a bottle of wine and a tin of popcorn and me a twenty-dollar check for Christmas.

“My mom sent me in for . . .” I paused, pretending to search for his name. “Goliath? She wanted him for her secretary’s son. He’s been begging her forever for a dog, and she told Mom that she finally cracked, so Mom wanted to do something special for them.”

“Just in time too! He expires tomorrow afternoon. You know,” he said, “I’m going to get your mom to take home one of these guys for herself one day.” He squinted his eyes. “Is your mom in the car?”

“No, she couldn’t make it,” I said, pushing out my bottom lip.

“Could you give her a call? You gotta be eighteen for the paperwork. I could authorize the adoption over the phone for her, not a problem. A one-time exception, though.”

“Oh, shit,” I said.

Allyster chuckled at that. Old guys love when girls curse. It’s the darnedest thing.

“She’s in court all day, Allyster.”

He sighed, and I knew this was my moment to strike.

“Can’t you let me take him? Just this once? He’s a purebreed and young too. Come on.” I rubbed my bald head, like I’d expected to find hair there.

He looked both and glanced back at me. “Ah, hell,” he said as he shook his finger in my face. “I’d hate to see this little guy get put down. This will be our secret?”

I lifted a finger to my lips.

He slid the clipboard across the countertop, and I filled out the necessary paperwork. When I was through, I smoothed out my bills and paid the hundred-and-fifty-dollar adoption fee. Allyster completed the transaction and left for a minute, then returned with a white carrier that looked like a mini cardboard house. On each side of the box, in big red letters, were the words: I LOVE MY PET.

The box panted and shook as Allyster handed him over. He squeezed my shoulder and looked at me in a way only people over the age of seventy ever did. He understood. Allyster, like me, was only a couple steps ahead of death. He narrowed his eyes and motioned to my scalp. “Beat this thing, would ya? You’re too young for all this baloney.” I assumed he was talking about the cancer and not the dog.

The exchange left me feeling uncomfortable, and all I could offer him was a single nod and a quick wave as I backed out of the door with Goliath in tow.

Harvey had practically pulled the Geo up onto the sidewalk. He jumped out of the still-running car and rushed around to the passenger side. I handed him the carrier as he opened my door, and I collapsed into my seat, exhausted. He placed the carrier in my lap, and we were off.

“Pawsitively Pets,” was all I said, between gasps.

In the parking lot of the pet store, I gave Harvey my remaining fifty bucks and a specific shopping list. He left the car running, and once he was inside, I pulled the top of the carrier open to find a puppy so ugly, he was cute.

If he had been taken care of properly, Goliath would have been flat-out adorable, but in his current matted, mangy, malnourished state, he was more on the dilapidated side.

Goliath backed into the farthest corner of the box and shivered, shaking the whole carrier. I stretched my hand, palm out, to him. He sniffed for a few minutes before running his tongue over the tips of my fingers.

“Okay, I had to get a different brand of dry food because the one you wanted was out of the puppy stuff,” said Harvey as he opened his door.

Goliath jumped away from my fingers and back into his corner.

“You scared him.”

Harvey tossed the bags into the backseat and rolled his eyes. “I think maybe you meant to say thank you.”

I sighed. “Thanks.”

I held my hand out for Goliath again, and Harvey leaned over me to get a good look at him. “All right, what’s the final stop for this guy?”

“Back to my place.”

“Alice, are you planning on keeping him?” What he didn’t say was, You’re dying. Not really the most opportune time to acquire a new pet.

“No, Harvey, I’m not, but Goliath needs a bath almost as much as you do, asshat.” I smiled.

Harvey shifted the car into drive. The corner of his mouth lifted as he shook his head.

At home, I changed into a swimsuit from too many summers ago and pulled out an old tank top to cover the unfortunate sagging. I sat in my tub and waited patiently for the tap to run lukewarm. Harvey held Goliath tucked beneath one arm, like a football. When I gave him the okay, he handed him over.