“The little guy’d probably make a run for it when the yelling and puking started,” she said.

“Dogs love those things,” I said.

My phone buzzed.

“I should get this.”

Julia went off down the hall with Kiki at her heels.

“So you’re not taking the dog,” the boy vet said. Or something like that—I could barely understand him through the slur in his voice.

“We’re going to visit and decide together,” I said.

“Dragged in by the tip of your dick,” he said. A chorus of barks rose in the background.

“Are you at the clinic?”

“It’s more than a job, man. I was keeping your crippled pooch company so it wouldn’t up and die on me. But now I’m thinking I might as well save him the despair of dashed hopes.”

“Um,” I said.

“It’s bye-bye for the little bow-wow,” he said. He made his voice hoarse and lugubrious. “Nobody loves you, bow-wow.”

“You’re not helping your cause.”

“Bedtime for the bow-wow. ’Bye now, bow-wow. Bye-bye.”

He started howling into the phone, and then abruptly hung up. Seconds later, his number flashed on my phone again. I let it vibrate on the coffee table until “Missed Call” flashed on the screen. This happened twice more before I turned my phone off.

“Why was he calling now?” Julia said. Kiki jumped from my spot and pulled herself under the bed, back claws splayed and skittering behind her.

“Guess he works late,” I said.

I got into bed next to Julia, who was still wearing her T-shirt, and, it transpired, nothing else.

“Do you ever worry that I care too much about Kiki and don’t give you enough attention?” I said.

“No,” Julia said. “I have real things to worry about.”

Kiki crunched on something under the bed, probably a pen or a phone charger.

“Kiss me,” I said. When she leaned in, I pressed my hand to her forehead and held her back.

“Come on, kiss me,” I said. She pushed against my hand.

“Do you like that?” I said.

“Not particularly,” she said.

When the appointed hour arrived the next day, I met Julia, with Kiki in tow, in the parking lot of the vet’s office. The nurse at the front desk didn’t have any idea what we were talking about.

“Is Doctor … is doctor even the right word? Is Cameron in?” I said.

“Oh, he’s back there someplace,” the nurse said. “He’s not so talkative today.”

We sat in the waiting room for twenty minutes. Finally, he emerged from the back, eyes bloodshot, with a loosened Goofy tie visible under his open white coat.

“Sonny and Cher,” he said when he saw us. “How’s that good girl of yours?”

“Kiki’s fine,” I said.

“Excellent, excellent,” he said. “What can I help you with?”

“We’re here to see the corgi. The one whose surgery I paid for.”

“Oh. Right,” he said solemnly. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Right.”

“What is it?” Julia said.