A Very Expensive Latte

It was clear that her lonely days were getting to her; everyone could see that.

She would sit at home and while away the hours reading and responding to Facebook posts. She didn’t have much interest in playing video games after she swore off a certain popular Massive Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game that shall remain unnamed. Most of her online friends were still playing that particular game so they did not have much to talk about anymore.

She did like to paint and draw and would spend hours creating pieces that would just end up hidden beneath the bed in her portfolio, which was so overcrowded that she had taken thirty or so of her works and just stuffed them into a sleeve in the back of the black leather binder.  

At one point, while researching a new diagnosis of hers, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome-- a misnomer if ever there was one-- she ran across a project that allowed her to contribute some of her paintings to a book that was created by and for sufferers of the disease. It was meant to be a beacon of hope. She did her best to make her contributions just that. But the project, at least her part of it, only lasted two weeks and she was back to mediocrity and waiting for her Partner to get home so that she could have some human interaction that did not involve her parents.

One evening, she received a call from one of her more elusive friends from highschool who, like many of the friends she had made before age fifteen, had been swallowed up by the corporate world of nines and fives and was very difficult to reach.

Her friend was beside herself with glee:
“I was driving home and I saw the cutest little dog in the window of the groomer’s near my house! The lady said that she was giving her away to a good home! I want to get her but I already have Lola and, when I offered her to my mom, she started screaming at me. You have to go get her!”

“How much is she?”

“Ugh! I just said she was giving her away. She’s free!”

“I’ll go take a look tomorrow then.”

“You’re going to love her. She’s so quiet and so cute!”

That night, she asked her mother if she wouldn’t mind taking her to the groomer near her Excitable Friend’s house. Her mother was wary of the idea of her owning a dog but was simultaneously open to it because of how introverted her daughter had become. She agreed to it.

The next day, they drove twenty minutes north-east to the grooming shop and parked.

The Girl was wary. Her Excitable Friend was often full of many ideas that were terribly impulsive. She hoped that this would not be one of them.

It was.

With her new dog in her arms and promises to take exceptionally good care of the little thing, who turned out to be a pure bred Shih Tzu of an unknown age, she found herself leaving the groomer’s shop with a new companion and a new responsibility.

She also found herself in need of an explanation for her Partner when he returned home from work that night. She had left him out of the decision process completely. Hell, she had nearly left herself out of the decision process; she just needed to see that cute little off-kilter gait that the dog exhibited to fall head over heals in love and everyone knows that love is as capricious an emotion as they come.

On the drive home she sent a text to her Excitable Friend:
“Got dog. Going to show her to her new home. She is quiet and sweet. Thank you for finding her!”

The collar around her neck was as ratty as they come. It was a faded teal and looked as though it had been around her neck for the better part of her life. The tag said “China”. Being that she was black and white and looked like the Good China that one only brings out for the most important of guests or most sacred of occasions, the name fit. But, well, it seemed so... Old.

Before leaving the shop, the Groomer informed the Girl that the previous owner had to give her up because of financial strain: the pills China took were entirely too expensive for a little old woman on nothing but Social Security. Having no income herself, she could understand this and her mother agreed to pay the monthly medical expenses for China.

But China was such an old-fashioned name for a supposedly five year old dog. She set about immediately researching new names that sounded like China but were not, well, “China”.

Chee Chee? No.
Myna? No.
Luna? Good, but she already knew someone by that name.
Mila? No.
Butch? Hah, no.
Fluffy? Nope.
Hailey? No.
Cerberus? Not even close.
Chie? Cute but no.

“Well, Chai, I guess I’ll have to get some more opinions on names,” She sat next to her sleeping companion on the couch and started stroking her back.
She stopped.
She realised what she had just said:
“Chai. Chai! C-H-A-I! I can call you Chai! It’s my favourite kind of hot drink! Oh frabjous day! I’ve found you a name that fits! Chai! You’re going to be so happy here, Chai. I’m going to take the best care of you.” She swooped her up into her arms and gave her a long, nuzzling hug. That was when she realised that Chai needed a bath. Before doing so, she phoned the Veterinary Hospital that her mother’s dog went to and made an appointment; it is not wise to bathe an animal without knowing if it needs special care or not.

“Special Care” was an understatement for little Chai.

That night, her Partner came home at the same time he always did. She was so nervous that she had to pop an extra Xanax to make sure that she did not come unglued and start sobbing apologies before he’d even had a chance to see the dog.

He dragged himself in the door, looking a little worse for wear and extremely tired.

“Rough day?” She asked.

“Mmm,” He replied lifelessly.

“I have a surprise for you... It’s, um, it’s on the, uh, couch.” Despite his dogged demeanour, she could barely contain her excitement.

“Mmm?” He perked up ever so slightly.
She lead him into the Common Room where Chai was curled up on top of the couch, a soft whine emanating from her very soul.

“What is...? Where...? Now listen here...” He looked down at her and she looked back, her deep brown eyes wide circles beneath her bangs. They had a clouded, faraway look to them but it was obvious that she was looking at him with great intensity.

He sighed and picked her up.
“Come on,” He ushered the girl out of the room, “Let’s go get her some fries.”

Without another word, they piled into the car, her Partner at the helm and Chai in her lap. They drove to Wendy’s, her Partner’s favourite fast food establishment. Since she really had not eaten much fast food before meeting him, it quickly became hers as well. She ordered a salad, he ordered a chicken sandwich combination, and Chai was designated an order of small fries. That night, they discovered her favourite food from the human world.



There was no objection to the name Chai from anyone. It was quick and easy to say and she seemed to take to it very quickly.
It also became very quickly known as to the real reason Chai’s previous owner had given her up: she was rife with physical maladies that, once they began, never seemed to stop.
First, and continually until the day she will take her last breath, she became stricken with what they ended up calling The Smelly Disease.
Being a purebred animal, she was liable to have health issues but it was not foreseen that she would have such expensive ones.
After anti-biotics and weekly baths kept The Smelly Disease at bay, she developed high levels of liver enzymes, and odd readings regarding her cortisol levels. She turned out to have Cushing’s Disease. Right about the same time, The Smelly Disease returned with a vengeance:
Chai had to have all of her hair shaved off, was placed in a medicated bath, given medication to help with this semi-new problem, and sent home.

For a while, Chai was a new dog. She was happy, ran around the house barking, played like a normal ten year old dog (it turned out that her medical papers went back ten years, not five), and even became a Service Animal for the Girl.

She took Chai everywhere. For two years, Chai was glued to the Girl’s hip. She brought her back to visit family in Tennessee twice: once for an extremely hot, muggy, and miserable wedding (to the Girl, every wedding was a miserable affair since she had been married once... a story for another time) and another time for a cold, snowy, and rather raucous New Year’s celebration that ended with a New Year’s kiss, both she and a nameless middle-aged woman grinding on her Partner, and her first cigarette of the New Year. She rather liked the whole affair, honestly.

After the second trip, Chai was retired from flying because of her declining health-- she overheated on the airplane and nearly passed out-- but continued to be a dedicated Service Animal for another six months. She was retired altogether after large lumps were found in her breasts and she had to have three of them taken out completely. Soon after, she developed debilitating pain in what seemed like her back. A two-thousand dollar MRI and four day hospital stay later told the family that Chai had bulging discs in her neck. There was nothing that could be done because of her age and history of liver issues. In short, she might go under for the surgery and not come back up. She was given very strong pain medications and confined to a crate for nearly a month so that she could get better.

Chai now lives the life of a very old cat. She sleeps twenty-two hours a day, poops and pees wherever she feels like it, though everyone likes to think that she tries to go on her designated piddle-pad, eats as much as she wants, is brushed daily, and is bathed weekly. She gets to romp around the neighbourhood as long as there is enough light out for her “Mom” to see her and she can sleep any place she wants to, as long as she is watched closely for incontinence.

Chai is succeeded in her duties by the Young Dog, who is many years her junior, full of endless energy, and is quick to learn.

Chai is mostly blind and almost entirely deaf so she is never expected to do tricks for her treats anymore. The most common command she gets is “Exist... Good ‘Exist’!”.

Every time Chai went in to the hospital or was just plain ill, the Monster within would leave the girl alone. It was almost as if it knew better than to try and rear its ugly head while she was stricken with grief.

The Monster would just lay dormant, in a sort of hibernation state, waiting for the right time to ascend the walls of its prison and strike out at those the Girl cared about. But the Monster did not like mental hospitals and, every time it came up from the depths and lashed out at those who showed nothing but love and support towards the Girl during difficult times such as the ones with Chai, they would be thrown into the hospital for a week and neither of them wanted that.

Of course, the Girl never wanted the Monster or anything that had to do with it to begin with.

Chai may have been an old, slow, smelly service dog, but she kept the Monster at bay and that was all she really needed to do to be a successful Service Animal.