Page 35 of Heartstring

11

TYLER

NOW

“Stan. Stay.”I walk upstairs, calling Seymour.

“What’s up?” he asks, coming out of his room wearing jeans and a shirt with the Chester Falls Animal Sanctuary logo.

“I need to know what’s wrong with Stan. I can’t function like this.”

He scratches the back of his head.

“Seymour?”

“All right, all right.” He crouches, and Stan suddenly appears from behind me, ready for an ear scratch. “He has a short-term memory condition.”

“What do you mean? How can dogs have a short-term memory condition?”

“Some dogs can suffer from dementia, but in Stan’s case, remember I said he was accidentally shot?”

I nod.

“The bullet lodged in an area of his brain that affects memory. Dr. Micah was able to retrieve it, but the damage was done.”

“What does it mean exactly? Is he healthy?” Suddenly my anxiety levels increase tenfold at the thought that my dog might not be okay after his injury.

Seymour’s eyes soften, and he crouches when Stan appears from behind me.

“He’s fine,” he says, rubbing behind Stan’s ears. The dog laps it all up. “Physically, he’s healthy, but the short-term memory can cause anxiety. Imagine you’re in a room with a group of people, then you leave to grab something to eat, and when you come back, there’s a bunch of people you don’t remember being there before. It’s why his owner had to give him up. They have a lot of pets already, and Stan didn’t cope well around other dogs and cats.”

It all makes sense now. Why he keeps following me around.

“But if he forgets, why has he not forgotten me?”

“I’m sure there’s some explanation. I’m not a vet, but if I was to take a guess, I’d say that when he saw you, he formed an attachment to you. So he might forget that you were in the room only a minute ago, but he knows who you are. Maybe you look like his old owner, or you smell like him.” Seymour shrugs before standing to go to work.

I don’t know what to think of Seymour having a routine and even a job uniform. He hasn’t mentioned how long he’s staying, and he’s not the kind to sit at home doing nothing. It doesn’t surprise me he’s found himself a job, even volunteering.

His job as a business analyst means he’s in front of his laptop for hours. Even as a college student, he always said he wanted a job where he could work remotely, giving him flexibility with his schedule. He prefers to work over dinner and continue until the late hours of the night because it allows him to do whatever he wants during the day. Usually something involving animals.

The Chester Falls Animal Sanctuary isn’t the first shelter he’s worked in just for the fun of it.

I sit on the top step of the stairs, and Stan comes beside me to rest his head on my leg.

“I’m sorry, Stan. It must suck not remembering things.” The image of Mik’s hungry eyes on me, the way he kissed me and held me, fills my mind. “It could be a blessing. There are many things I’d like to forget.” I look up at the framed photos on the wall of Porter and me on our honeymoon. “Then again, there are things that are too beautiful to forget. I hope somehow, in the recesses of your mind, you still remember all the good times you had, the sticks you chased and the tummy rubs.”

He licks my hand.

“What do you say you come to work with me today?”

He barks, and I laugh.

“You like that, huh? Okay, let’s grab our stuff and go.”

Stan seems happier and more relaxed than when I try to leave him at home to go to the food kitchen. So happy, in fact, that by the time I get to the door to grab my coat, Stan is waiting for me with his favorite blanket next to him and the odd pair of socks he stole from Seymour the other day.

“You know he’s been looking for those everywhere, right? If I come home later to find him breaking the washing machine apart to find the socks, I’m taking the money for a new one out of your allowance.”