Blind Faith

I've always believed that a person's car is what a person is, and when I opened the passenger door of this late 80s Ford Taurus sedan and got in, I smiled to myself.The gray car was as impeccable as its owner, Dr. Fields.It's not scratched, it's not bumped, everything is in its place; it's bright, it's neat, it's clean, it's family friendly, and safety is paramount.Just like its owner.

And while it still works great and is solid, it has come a long way and over the years.Just like its owner.

And is my car a picture of me?Like I thought it would be - and yes, it is.A solid [-]WD Jeep with some scrapes and dents, not too old, but certainly not as new and nice as it was shown in the store.Stronger, a little older, sometimes fun, always functional, that's who I am.As a veterinarian, I'm capable; as a Jeep that allows me to put my dog ​​in the backseat on my day off and drive us out of town together, it's capable.My Jeep doesn't use any traits to blatantly advertise itself as a "gay car," just as I don't try to look "gay" on purpose.

Unless you factor in the little star sticker on the rear bumper.

These star stickers were put on by my buddy Mark before I left Hartford, Connecticut to work in Boston.He knew that I would be buried in the busy work like before and miss out on many opportunities to meet new people.He said that with these rear bumper stickers, the chances of my butt tattoo being seen would probably go up a lot too.He also said that the star stickers were a lot more subtle than the "I'm gay, fuck?" stickers he wanted to put on my car.He thought it was humorous.Mark always thought he had a good sense of humor.

"What made you laugh like that?" asked Dr. Fields.

"Oh, it's nothing." I looked at the old man behind the steering wheel and said briefly.But I still look at him and smile the whole time.

He smiled back at me and asked, "How are you settling in? Do you like life here?"

"Yes," I answered honestly this time, "very much. I mean, even though I've only been here for a week, I've enjoyed everything I've seen so far." And indeed.My new job at East Weymouth Animal Hospital is a really big step up for me.

He laughed again and seemed very happy with his decision to hire me.

He concentrated on driving for a while, then asked me again: "When you were in Hartford, did you do home visits?"

I laughed and replied, "Uh, no. I thought home visits were something that country veterinarians did for large livestock." Or something that only happens on TV shows, I rambling on, but throwing this out anyway stayed in the stomach.

This time it was Dr. Fields' turn to smile, "Well, I don't have too many home visits on my list now, only some long-term regular clients."

And that's where we're going now.Our animal hospital is located in a nice neighborhood of this town, close to all the families that need to be seen.Our first visit is to Mrs. Yao and her 17-year-old cat, Mr. Beard.When we arrived, I wasn't surprised at all that Mrs. Yao wanted us to come to her home for a doctor's visit.She must have been nearly a hundred years old, maybe four feet tall, with silver-gray hair and skin like wrinkled paper.

①Approximately 1 meter 22.

"Don't be fooled by her appearance," Dr. Fields had warned me in the car, "she's as sharp as a nail."

She was, but her poor old bearded man wasn't as good as she was.He was sluggish and rarely responded to Dr. Fields' gentle examination of his body.Dr. Fields prescribed more joint medication for Mr. Beard, but even Mrs. Yao could only nod sadly to us, acknowledging that her poor cat's days were numbered.

Regardless of our obstruction, Mrs. Yao insisted on sending us out.Dr. Fields patted her arm reassuringly and told her to call him if she needed anything.When we got back into his car, Dr. Fields sighed, "I don't think poor Mr. Beard can make it through the end of the summer," he continued sadly, "I don't know how Mrs. Yao will do without him." Life. After her husband passed away, this cat has been with her..." The old man's voice faded away.He didn't need to say much.I totally understand.

I just worked with him for a week and it was easy to recognize the old man's love for the job.He remembered the names of each of his patients and their owners, and devoted his time to each of them, knowing all their medical histories.He has such an old-school work ethic that I wonder how he's coping with his impending retirement.

Just as this hospital will miss him, I think he will miss this hospital as much.After all, it was obvious from my first week of work that his departure would leave a huge void for me to fill.

We drove quietly for a while, and the house outside the window slowly slid past my field of vision.Weymouth in South Boston, where our animal hospital is located, is already a very good community, but judging from the well-cared-for gardens and lawns, the houses we pass by are even better.

To continue our conversation, I reminded the old man, "The Blennigans are next."

Dr. Fields nodded. "Isaac Branigan..." he said softly, shaking his head. "A sad story, but it's not for me to tell you. Hannah will be there for you. She's the official caretaker." He said somewhat mysteriously.

As we pulled into a circular driveway, I wondered what he meant.A huge detached villa sits regal in the middle of well-tended gardens, a testament to its owner's wealth.

Dr. Fields opened the door, but before getting out of the car, he said to me: "Isaac and his dog, Brady, are having some adjustment issues. He has a little..." He struggled for the right words. , "... stubborn, but I think he has his own reasons."

The old man got out of the car before I could confirm whether "he" meant the dog or the owner.I had no choice but to grab the bag from the back seat, and then walked to the gate of the villa.

A woman opened the door for us and stood by the door to welcome us.She smiled very warmly as soon as she saw Dr. Fields. She looked about 30 years old, just a little older than me, with curly brown hair, pale skin, and a big, kind smile.

"Hannah," Dr. Fields introduced us, "this is Dr. Carter Reese. Carter, this is Hannah Blennigan."

I held out my hand and she took it too. "Nice to meet you."

She still kept smiling: "Did Max take you on rounds?"

She called Dr. Fields by his first name, and I realized at once that they should be very familiar.Before I could answer, Dr. Fields had taken over her question: "Dr. Carter will take over from me at the hospital."

"Oh," she turned to look at the old man, and asked softly, "Are you going to retire?" Dr. Fields nodded. "Isaac never told me about it..."

"He doesn't know either," Dr. Fields told her quietly. "I was going to talk to him today."

Just then, a man who looked probably younger than me walked into the foyer.He’s dressed like he’s just off a yacht, with khaki shorts, a white polo shirt, expensive leather loafers, and tiny dark designer sunglasses that might be worth a month’s salary.He seemed to be in good shape, about my height at five feet ten, with short dark brown hair and a fair complexion.He is really beautiful.

②Approximately 1 meter 78.

He smiled and said, "What are you talking about?"

This man is Isaac Branigan?I don't know why I thought he was an old man, but I did.Dr. Fields said Isaac had a caregiver, so I assumed Hannah, who assumed that responsibility - and had the same last name - was his daughter.But now it seems that it is probably his wife.

"I'm going to bring Brady," Hannah said after Isaac appeared in the foyer. "I'll let him go to the bathroom before you come over."

Dr. Fields smiled at her, then turned to Isaac.The young man kept looking in my direction, though not directly.He asked, "Do we have other guests this time?"

"Ah, yes," answered Dr. Fields, "Isaac Branigan, and this is Dr. Carter Reese, who is also a veterinarian."

"Hi," I motioned to him, "nice to meet you."

"But why is he here?" asked Isaac, very rudely.I was a little taken aback by his blatant rudeness.

"Can we sit down in the living room first?" said Dr. Fields. "I have some news for you."

Isaac turned and walked across the empty hall to the sofa, touching the edge and the armrest lightly before sitting down.Dr. Fields followed him, and I stood in the hall, wondering.

Dr. Fields had previously said the man was stubborn.And I think what's wrong with him is just being too rude.But after I followed them and sat across from Isaac, Dr. Fields made a strange move towards the young man sitting next to him and put his hand on Isaac's lap.

"I took Carter to all my home patients today," Dr. Fields told him, "because he's taking over from me and I'm retiring, Isaac."

Isaac still sat there, unresponsive.His expression was stiff, and he didn't even take off his sunglasses. "when?"

"In two weeks," answered Dr. Fields.

Hannah came from the kitchen with a golden Labrador, which I thought was Brady.It is about two or three years old, with a pair of bright eyes and a happy smiling face.It came and sat at Isaac's feet, as if it were part of the human conversation.

I also find it a little odd that Isaac is ignoring the dog.He didn't even pet it or pat it, didn't do anything with it.Instead, he continued directly to Dr. Fields: "I need some calcium powder, the kind I usually put in Brady's food."

Dr. Fields nodded: "I remember I gave you some last time."

"I knocked over." Isaac replied calmly.

Something wasn't quite right, like the way Isaac wasn't looking his way when he was talking to Dr. Fields, like the sunglasses he kept refusing to take off.I looked around until I found what I was looking for: some photographs on the mantelpiece across the room.It was a picture of him with another dog, not just any kind of dog, but a guide dog.

Isaac Branigan was blind.

"I'm not sure, Max..." he said, "you've been our veterinarian for so long..."

Dr. Fields looked at me apologetically, and said with a smile: "Dr. Reese is very good. I personally selected him from a group of candidates to take my place. He moved from Hartford to Boston to accept the job. of."

"I can understand your concerns," I interrupted their conversation candidly, and Isaac turned away.I wanted to prove to him that I was trustworthy, but I also felt that if I was going to get Isaac or Brady to start liking me, I would be more likely to be liked by the dog.So I added, "You trust Dr. Fields, and you don't know me yet. But, Isaac, if you don't mind, can I have a few minutes alone with Brady?"

Isaac answered me, as if muttering, "Sure, up to you," and got up and walked to the kitchen.Brady sat a little higher and looked at Isaac, but didn't follow him.

I whispered the dog's name and it turned to me at my command.I sat on the sofa and patted my thigh lightly, "Come here."

Brady, just as I let it do, came over and sat between my legs, looking at me with his big brown eyes and seeming to smile at me.It made me laugh at it too.I looked up at Dr. Fields, but he was looking at Isaac.

The man reached the kitchen counter and walked in with a familiar relaxed gesture.He ran his fingers over the edge of the counter, paused, and asked, "Anyone want something? Iced tea?"

He didn't really wait for an answer from us, he just walked over to a specific cupboard, grabbed a glass, then walked to the fridge and pulled out a jug of iced tea.

He clearly knew his kitchen well, and he did it with as much proficiency as if he could see it.I found myself watching him, and it was only after Hannah, who was sitting next to me on the couch, started talking again, that I remembered the reason for our visit.

"Brady knows who you are," she said with a smile.

I looked down at the dog, who rested his face on my lap with his eyes closed, enjoying my petting behind his ear.I looked back at Hannah and smiled at her.

"Yeah, looks like I found a new friend."

There was a loud noise in the kitchen and we all turned our heads.Isaac dropped a spoon with a slightly displeased look on his face, and I suspect he may have done it on purpose.He really didn't look too happy.

I looked back at Hannah, who smiled back at me, "So, Carter, is that what it's called?"

"Yes," I replied, thanking her for changing the subject, "Carter Reese."

"You just moved here?" she continued. "Is that what Max said?"

I nodded and continued to pat Brady. "Moved from Hartford, but now Boston is my home. I moved to Weymouth, nice place, close to my work."

Isaac brought over a tray of glasses half-filled with iced tea, and slowly set the tray down on the coffee table.I was amazed at how easy it seemed for him to do it all, without even imagining how difficult it actually was.

"So, Carter," Hannah continued, smiling, looking at the dog sitting between my legs, when I finally looked away from her brother, "how is our patient?"

I looked at it, checked its spine, hips, limbs and joints, looked at its eyes, gums and teeth, although I didn't really need to because it looked perfectly healthy.But before I could say anything, Dr. Fields stepped in and said, "Brady, you're going to be three now, aren't you?"

It's kind of weird that he's not even making any diagnosis, he's just leading the conversation.I gave him a curious look, and he gave me a quick, nonchalant shake of his head, knowing that now was not the time to ask him questions.But I had to say something if I wanted Isaac to be able to trust me professionally in the future.So I said, "Isaac, how's his appetite?"

It's not a particular specific question, but more of a general understanding.

Isaac sat back down next to Dr. Fields, and he seemed surprised by my question: "If you don't, he'll keep eating until he's dead."

I laughed.Most Labradors, even well-trained guide dogs, will eat until they die if you leave them alone.But I didn't say that. "How many days a week does he work on average?" I'm not an expert on guide dogs, but I do know that when they're on a leash and out with their owners, that's working hours.

There was still no expression or reaction from Isaac, which made me think I was asking the wrong question again.Fortunately, he opened his mouth and answered me: "It's not necessarily, sometimes five days, sometimes seven days." He wanted to say something else, but he seemed to think that it would be fine.He raised his head and looked roughly in my direction, "Why do you ask that?"

"Just wanted to know a little bit more," I replied, hoping I sounded genuinely nonchalant. "So be it, I think Dr. Fields will give me all the other details I need to know."

Dr. Fields—my boss for the next two weeks—cut in on our conversation: "Dr. Reese, can you go get that bag of dry dog ​​food from my car? It's in my trunk. There was a five-pound bag of dog food that I forgot to bring in."

Of course I read his implication, he wanted to talk to Isaac alone. "sure."

As I got up to leave, Hannah joined me. "I'll take you out."

She sighed as we stepped outside into the warm summer sun. "Isaac can be a little difficult," she reassured gently. "Take it easy, he and Max have known each other for years."

I opened the trunk, took out the bag of dog food, and closed the door.I looked at her and smiled, "I can see it."

She smiled back at me too. "What do you see? Isaac is a bit difficult to get along with? Or is he and Max good friends?"

I wisely chose not to answer this question, which would be an answer in itself.

Hannah continued to smile and nodded. "Don't take his words and actions too seriously. He loves Brady, really. It's just not so good recently..."

Before I asked her what that meant, she looked at the bag in my arms and her eyes lit up again. "Come on, let me tell you where to put it."

We walked back to the house, through the living room, where Isaac and Dr. Fields were still talking.We went into the kitchen, and I put Brady's bag of dry dog ​​food on the counter, and at that moment, they ended their conversation in the living room and stood up.

As we took our leave, Dr. Fields patted Isaac's hand like a grandfather would do to his grandson. "This is not farewell. I will call often to find out how you are doing."

Isaac snorted, "If you have the ability to drag yourself off the golf course."

Dr. Fields laughed and said, "Yes, that's true." Then he became serious again, clapped the young man's hand and continued, "You can get the same service from Dr. Reese, and in the future he will Watch yours."

Isaac nodded, but still said nothing.As we drove back to the clinic, Dr. Fields lamented to me: "Isaac still hasn't embraced change well," he explained. "He always has."

I wondered what these changes meant to a blind man.He knew and trusted Dr. Fields, not only in his care of the guide dog, but also in his judgment, and more importantly, he trusted him to come to his home and his safe haven.For Isaac, any change must be a pain.

I looked at the old man and nodded in agreement: "Yes, I don't think he can accept it either."

I still have a lot of questions about Isaac Blennigan, but I realized the old man had just said goodbye to an old friend, so I decided to ask later.We drove back to the clinic without saying a word, and immediately continued to make other appointments for diagnosis.But it wasn't until later in the evening that the answer I wanted to know was bubbling up on its own.

After wrapping up my daily appointments for the day, I opened up the Blennigan file and started some desk work.After reading it, I gently knocked on the office of Dr. Fields. When he raised his head, I gestured to him with the thick stack of files. He quickly understood what I wanted to discuss.

"Why are we doing all the testing on a healthy dog?" I asked, "What exactly are we trying to find out?"

Dr. Fields put down his pen and closed the folder in front of him, took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, and sighed deeply.

"Come in and sit down, Carter," he said resignedly, "and let me tell you about Isaac Branigan."