but Owen was standing on his hind legs panting in her ear. He's waiting for the command to come up and lie next to her for a few minutes before they start their day."All right, Up."
Owen is a cocker mix, emphasis on 'mix'. He's getting thick in the middle but his temperament is as golden as his wavy blond coat. With an animal's love of routine, he waits for events to unfold in their familiar pattern.
The pull of nature's urges finally draws her into the bathroom. Owen follows her. He sits waiting, with an occasional lick to her knee. Bravely, she looks up into the mirror. Her mop of hair, similar in color to Owen's, stands out at odd angles. Her eyes, still squinting, makes furrows in her nose ridge. In fear of getting permanent lines there, she stops furrowing.
She looks out the little window over the tub and sees the white oleander blazing in the morning sun.
"It's going to be warm again today, Owen." His ears perk up. "A typical desert Spring day." His ears un-perk as he realizes none of the feeding words are being used: breakfast, eat, hungry.
Her body focuses on its desire for coffee. She had given up cigarettes two years ago. She willingly separates her carbohydrates from her proteins and takes herbal supplements, but she felt life wouldn't be worth living without morning coffee.
At his insistence, she mixed Owen's dry and canned food and put it down for him. Before she takes a sip of her coffee, he's gobbled his whole breakfast down.
"Now, outside with you, guy. Do your duty. Gotta rush to work."
Owen understood the word 'work' and hangs his head as he goes out. He probably thinks it's too early, she wishes she could explain the circumstances.
Munching an apple for breakfast, she called the hospital. They confirmed Stan's admittance, found the floor and room number he'd been assigned, then insisted on putting the in-charge nurse on the phone to give information about his condition. When they couldn't find the nurse, she let them off the hook and said she'd call back later.
The employee gate at the zoo is a beehive of activity. She parks her pickup by the back fence. A uniformed officer is standing guard. This combined with the chain link fence topped with barbed wire (intended more to keep the adventurous out, than the wild beasts in) has turned her familiar entrance into the look of a prison. Police and plain clothes detectives are rushing in and out. She hates rushing. She purposely slows her pace.
She clips her zoo i.d. onto her shirt so the officer can see it. As she walks past, she notices the small animal infirmary where she'd found Stan last night is sealed off with crime tape. She wonders if they'd moved the Gibbon, the screamer from last night.
"And the Koala? What was a Koala doing there anyway? Maybe a new acquisition," she thought. She heads straight for the Director's office in the Executive Building.
