To Love or Not to Love

                                                                                      By Marjorie Cliff Picard

     The cat and I were late getting to the firehouse.  Cats were supposed to arrive at

8 am and dogs at 9 am.  It was time for Polonius’s free rabies shot, and when we got there, the building was full of barking dogs.  I went to the end of the line and set him down in his cat carrier.  He hissed and meowed angrily inside his box, no doubt frightened by the din.  I squatted down and tried to speak soothingly to him through the silver dollar-sized air hole.  He settled down a bit.

     As I struggled back up to my feet, I suddenly lost my balance, tipping over and landing, much to my embarrassment, against the legs and feet of the man behind me.  I glanced upward, straight into the most soulful, expressive brown eyes I have ever seen. They belonged to a basset hound, being held in the arms of a man with a slight grin on his face, and a twinkle in his eye.

     “Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” I said.  “Sometimes I can be so clumsy.  Are you all right?”

     “I’m fine.  Please let me help you up.”  He set his dog down and assisted me to my feet.  I glanced again at his eyes, sparkling blue with light creases at the outer edges. I bet he smiles and laughs a lot, I thought to myself.  And, oh yes, he’s very easy to look at, too, and about my thirtyish age.  He caught my glance and I shyly looked away.

     “That’s quite a feisty cat you have in there,” he said.  “What’s his name?”

     “Polonius,” I answered.

     “Wow, what a coincidence.  My dog’s name is Hamlet.”  He motioned to his pet who had ambled over to my cat’s carrier and began sniffing the area.

     “Oh yes,” I answered, smiling, wondering what the coincidence was.  Was there a Polonius in “Hamlet?” There must have been.  I thought it was just a cute name for a cat.  Maybe that name came into my brain from years ago when I read the play in high school.  “I love Shakespeare.  My favorite is “Romeo and Juliet.”

     At that very moment, Hamlet let out an agonizing yowl and sprang back from the cat  carrier.  He continued to yelp and shake his head violently, spraying droplets of blood from the end of his nose.  He had poked it into the air hole on the box, and Polonius had whacked it full force with his open claw.

     “Oh my God!  Look what my cat did!” I cried, horrified.  “I’m so sorry!”  I pulled a wad of tissue from my purse as we ran to the dog.  I gave it to his master to staunch the bleeding.

     “This is a deep gash,” he said calmly, examining the injury.  “It’s going to need a stitch.”

     “I insist on paying for this,” I said.  “It’s all my fault. I guess Polonius is nastier than I thought.”

     “No no no.  It was my fault.  I should have been watching Hamlet more closely, but instead I was watching….I mean, talking to you.  Let’s sit over there in the corner while I try to stop the bleeding By the way, my name is Steve Roman.  I live over on Prospect Street.”                        

     “And my name is Julie Sanders.  We’re almost neighbors.  I’m on Rose Court, three blocks away.”  Hamlet whimpered and tried to reach his nose with a back paw.

     “No!’ his master said firmly.  “I have to keep him from making the damage worse.  How can I get to the vet and keep his paw away from his nose at the same time?”  He continued to apply pressure to the wound.  “Maybe I should try to walk it with him, once the bleeding has stopped.  The vet is only about a half mile from here.”

     “Would you mind if I tagged along? I’m still going to pay, and I want to be sure he’s okay.  I can carry Polonius.”

     “It’s really not necessary for you to come or pay, but,” he said, glancing at me with a twinkle in his eye,  “maybe you could help me with Hamlet.”  The dog whimpered and tried to pull away, but Steve kept a strong hold on his collar and spoke to him soothingly.  Gently, he persisted until the bleeding finally stopped.

     “We’ll have to walk fast so he won’t have a chance to sit down and scratch,” he said.

 “Let’s get going.”

      I jumped from my chair, grabbed the cat carrier, and followed man and dog who were already at the door, dog pumping his short legs as fast as possible. I struggled to keep up with Steve’s long stride.  He glanced back and forth from the injured nose to the way ahead.

     “I can tell you are a patient person,” I said, puffing.  “Just by watching the way you handle that dog, and talk to him.”

     “Id better be.  I deal with little kids all day at work.  I’m a teacher over in Madison.  First grade.  And, man, do they test your patience.”  He chuckled.

       As we hurried along, I shifted the weight of the cat carrier from hand to hand.  It was getting heavier with each step.

     “I hope you don’t mind if I wait here just to make sure he’s okay,” I said as we entered the vet’s office.  “I’ll just sit here in the waiting room until you and Hamlet come out.  Is that all right with you?”  I set down Polonius’s cat carrier.  He had become quiet.

     “Sure, if you want.  I really appreciate your concern.  You’re very kind.”

     Plus, I’m going to pay, I thought as they left for the examining room.  Then I started to worry.  What if this is serious?  What if the stitches block his nose?  What if he can’t breathe?  Dogs have very sensitive noses.  What if he can’t smell?  Will they bandage it?  I continued to worry as time passed.  After what seemed like an hour, a door opened and Steve came out, followed by Hamlet who sported a huge, cone-shaped collar around his neck.  Noticing my surprise, Steve said,  “That’s to protect him from scratching his nose.  The vet couldn’t bandage it because he has to breathe.  He’ll be fine.”

     “Thank goodness,” I said, relieved.  “Now, I must insist on paying the bill.  My cat was responsible for this.”

     “No, no.  I have a better idea.  How about I pay, then we take Hamlet for a walk in the park on the way back to our cars so he can learn to maneuver with his new collar, and then maybe we can pick up a light lunch. Your treat. How’s that for a deal?”

     “I kind of like that deal,” I replied, glancing into those crinkly blue eyes once more.  I am going to try to make this a nice, long walk and a nice long lunch, I thought to myself. “Only one problem, however,” I said.  “What can I do with Polonius?

    Steve reached over and lifted the box.  “He’s not so heavy.  I’ll carry him and you can hold the leash.”

     It was a glorious spring day in the park with cherry trees in full bloom.  As we walked slowly, allowing for Hamlet’s uncertain steps, Steve revealed himself further as a kind, caring person who supported and tended to his ailing, elderly parents while establishing    his career as a teacher.

     “All this hasn’t left me with much time to relax,” he said, as we paused on our walk.  “I go from my job to classes at college to my parents’ house.”  He gave me a direct look.  “Doesn’t leave me a lot of time to spend with people I’d like to get to know a little better.”  His blue eyes twinkled again, and a slight grin appeared.  “Maybe at lunch, if you wouldn’t object, we can figure a way to get together next week.”

     “I can’t think of one objection,” I said, returning the grin.  I glanced down and suddenly realized that Hamlet had sprawled out right next to the cat carrier, happily thumping his tail on the pavement.  As I quickly reached down to grab the handle, I saw that the cat’s nose was pushed out of the air hole an inch from Hamlet.  “Oh my gosh!” I exclaimed, as I got closer.  “He’s purring!”

                                                   THE END