The vet's waiting room smelled like antiseptic and fear. I didn't notice it at first. Not really. I was too busy watching Gus pace. Back and forth. Back and forth. His claws clicked against the linoleum in a rhythm that was starting to drive me crazy. Three steps left. Pause. Three steps right. Pause. His tail hung low, not tucked exactly, but not doing that happy wag either. The one that knocked things off coffee tables and made my kids laugh. I'd been sitting there for twenty-three minutes. I knew because I kept checking my phone. Not for messages. Just to see the numbers change. To feel like time was moving. Because right now, everything felt frozen. Gus stopped pacing and looked at me. That's when I saw it. His eyes. They weren't right. They were... distant. Like he was looking through me instead of at me. His ears were pinned back flat against his head, and his mouth was closed tight. Not panting. Not smiling. Just closed. "Hey, buddy," I wh...