The first thing Anna noticed was the cow painting inside the room. It was a square canvas, just about the size of her head, hung up on the yellow wall next to the window. The cow had its eyes closed, facing down at Anna through the shatters of sunlight that phased into the room. She wondered if Daisy and the cow were sisters: the same black mark stained their white fur right in the middle of their muzzle. And behind the cow was a matte blue sky, just like today.
And today the room smelled like the sun. Like last summer when she and Daisy would run in the yard and her short legs wouldn’t be able to stop the force of gravity coaxing stuttery strides downhill. Like when she would throw her body at Daisy, burying her nose in the soft heated fur and feeling her cheek get massaged by the rapid thumping underneath. Grass marks would streak pink pants and pink paws, and her Mom would grumble while washing both. Anna heard the same tone of voice as her Mom talked to the vet. She watched her eyebrows furrow, hugging the nervous glancing as she bit the insides of her cheek. The other animals from the rooms over seem to be in on it as well. They were crying, barking, whining. But the cow still smiled at her. Cows didn’t bark. Cows moo, she recalled her red plastic wheel toy singing to the tune of Jack in the Box.
Anna stumbled over her words. “Why’d you have a cow painting? Do you fix cows too?”
The vet wore the same color as the sky. She glanced from her sink and gloves, giving Anna a soft smile.
“No, but my friend does! Do you like cows?”
Anna walked up against the metal table that Daisy was on in the middle of the room, just able to peer her eyes over. She lay on the cold metal, her head resting on her paws, just before the edge of the table. The distant sound of her tail sliding side to side filled the room as Anna approached. She pushed her forehead against the black wet nose, soft breaths tickling her wisps of blonde that strayed from the ponytail her Mom would tighten almost every few minutes. Her exhales smelled like corn chips. The kind that she would see her big sister eat after coming home.
“Cows are okay,” she replied after being nudged by her Mom. “Are you fixing Daisy?”
The vet gave her Mom a look; she turned to kneel down beside Anna.
“Anna honey, let’s wait for Daisy outside, okay?”
“Don’t wanna.”
Anna curved her small hand up, able to reach just far enough for her blunt fingertips to rest on Daisy’s paw, feeling the spikes of the ends of her fur and her thick claws.
“But Daisy wants to be alone right now.”
Anna saw Daisy’s ears weakly flick at the mention of her name.
“You’re lying.” She rubbed her head against her dog’s nose. “Daisy loves me.”
There was silence except for the noise of Daisy’s tail slowly brushing against the metal. Shhhk, shhhk.
The vet and her Mom continued their conversation of words she couldn’t really understand. The word sleep got thrown around a lot, and Anna felt like she could rest. Daisy always wanted more sleep recently.
“Anna, did you hear that?” Her Mom kept trying to pull her away. “Do you understand?”
Anna stared blankly. She’d never seen her Mom make that face before.
She gave a slow nod, looking at the floor.
The vet uttered a few words and pushed something into Daisy.
Her Mom held her hand, embracing her tightly.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, giving a solemn look.
But Anna stared at Daisy, who looked just like the cow in the painting.