Genius Species

Chapter 4

Dash and Jane found themselves nestled in the cozy corner of a well-lit sitting area, draped with a warm ambiance of familiarity. Tracing the worn edges of an old magazine, Jane glanced at Dash.

His eyes, an auburn mosaic of despair and resignation, reflected the silent understanding of their reason for being there. It was as if he was embracing the temper tantrum of a defiant toddler, making guilt slither into Jane's heart.

Yet, she was determined, aware of the impending danger of a rabid dog or a fatal canine disease lurking in the shadows. She was ready to wield the cloak of responsibility, unwilling to postpone the inevitable.

"It's going to be okay; I promise!" she reassured Dash, her voice a comforting blanket in the sterile environment.

"Dash?" said the receptionist, her voice cutting through the heavy silence.

"Well, looks like it's your turn, dude," Jane spoke to Dash, almost as if expecting an understanding nod.

They rose from their seats, "Right this way, please," the receptionist guided them, her voice a gentle lullaby in the sterile ambiance. She was a young woman, perhaps in her mid-twenties, with flowing blonde locks, a slim figure, and a warm smile. As Jane looked at her, she couldn't help but let her mind wander to the receptionist's personal life, imagining intimate encounters and different lovers.

Jane was caught off guard by her feelings for this woman, a stranger, until that very moment. "Could I be attracted to her?" Jane questioned herself, wrestling with the newfound idea of homosexuality, previously unexplored in her heterosexual world. These feelings sparked a sense of curiosity within her. "What does this mean? Why now?" she wondered, feeling compelled to understand this surprising shift in her perceptions.

"The vet will be right with you," giving Jane a glance and a forced smile.

They were nestled in a compact room devoid of windows, the only light source being the harsh fluorescent bulbs overhead. The antiseptic odor of rubbing alcohol hung heavy in the air, intermingling with the overpowering scent of an older woman's pungent perfume.

The walls were a collage of posters featuring dogs of different breeds alongside many advertisements. These ranged from warnings about rabies and Parvo to information about fleas, ticks, and obscure diseases that Jane wasn't familiar with.

Intermittently, there were ads for local businesses, their signs screaming for attention, presumably unable to afford the luxury of a daytime TV commercial slot. Jane was already anticipating the hefty fee for the doctor's brief visit and feeling overwhelmed by the countless unrelated ads.

Dash started to show a deep sense of anxiety. Jane wished she could offer him some form of comfort, some reassurance in this sea of unfamiliarity.

After several minutes, the doctor emerged into the glaringly bright room. Compared to the stereotypical image of a male vet, he was in his early thirties, with a deep, bronzed complexion. His chiseled jawline framed a face adorned with dark, wavy hair, the texture of which Jane couldn't discern whether it was tamed with mousse or pomade.

A peculiar scar traced its path from the right side of his lip, disappearing halfway up his right nostril. His smile held an air of confidence, bordering on arrogance, reminiscent of someone who might have just paraded a brand-new Ferrari through a middle-class suburban neighborhood. As Jane studied him, she couldn't shake off the thought that he and the receptionist were possibly more than just professional acquaintances.

"How are we faring today?" he interjected, his tone mixed with a hint of playful sarcasm, effectively nudging Jane out of her trance.

"Pretty good, thank you," Jane responded, her voice barely audible in the pure silence. She averted her gaze, her cheeks flushing a soft shade of pink.