Remember this week’s three words for your mini-story? Dog – Pills – Car.

 

“I can’t believe you did it. How’s it working out?”

“I love it. It’s great.”

The college girls sat cross-legged on the grass in the center of the main quad.

They were sharing a roasted turkey sandwich and a basket of sweet potato fries.

“What’s the process?” Gemma tipped up her chin to get the last drop of Diet Coke, closing her eyes in the bright noon sunlight.

“Super easy.” Hannah dipped a fry in ranch dressing. “My shrink wrote a letter to some agency saying that I needed to have an emotional support dog on campus because of my nerves, my anxiety, you know.”

“Just a letter got you a dog on campus?”

“I also had to pay seventy-five dollars and complete some online form. Took me like ten minutes.”

“What kind of dog did you get?”

“A beautiful Bichon Frise. White with little button eyes.”

Gemma didn’t see any emotional support dog. “So, where is she? Doesn’t she come to class with you?”

Hannah shook her head. “Nah. Crowds make her anxious.”

“So she goes with you on errands?”

“Nope. She throws up in the car. Who knew that dogs had motion sickness, right?”

“So she goes to the library with you to study?”

“Can’t do that either. She’s a very anxious dog. She pees on everything. Shakes all the time. I’ve never seen anything quiver like that. The vet had to put her on anti-anxiety meds to calm her down. You’re not going to believe it.” Hannah gave a short laugh, like a bark. “She’s on the same pills that I’m on!”

Gemma paused mid-bite. “You’re kidding me.

Hannah shook her head. “Not kidding.”

The classmates finished their sandwiches in silence. Gemma wondered if her friend had indeed just barked like a small dog. Hannah wondered what her Bichon Frise was doing at that very moment, perhaps sleeping in the dog’s favorite safety spot under her bed.

Hannah continued. “I have to keep the apartment really calm or she freaks out so I meet my friends somewhere else ‘cause… you know… she’s not very social.”

“OK. I get it now.” Gemma balled up the detritus from her lunch and threw it at Hannah. “It’s you, my friend. You.”

“I don’t follow.” Hannah’s face pinched in puzzlement.

Gemma leaned toward her. “You’re the Emotional Support Animal!”