The vet's office smelled faintly of antiseptic and fear. Whiskers, usually a whirlwind of playful energy, was slumped in Louise's arms, his eyes wide and unfocused. I felt a pang of guilt. My mind had been elsewhere, lost in a labyrinth of calculations and Andrew's quiet intensity. I hadn't been present for him.
The vet, a woman with kind eyes and a reassuringly calm demeanor, examined Whiskers thoroughly. Her voice, a soothing counterpoint to the hushed whispers of the waiting room, detailed the possibilities, but also the precautions. My focus flickered, caught in a tug-of-war between the urgent needs of the present and the persistent images of Andrew from earlier.
Outside, the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the parking lot. Louise and I walked back to our car, the silence punctuated only by the rustling leaves and the rhythmic thump of my heart.
"You know," Louise said, her voice laced with concern, "sometimes, I think you're letting your thoughts run away with you."
"Maybe," I admitted, "but sometimes, I need to let my thoughts wander." I looked at the leash, the same color as Andrew's shirt; it felt too symbolic for comfort. "It's like... when I'm trying to solve a complex problem, if I don't let my mind wander, the solution might never come."
Louise chuckled softly. "I see what you mean. But maybe, just maybe, you need to find a balance. You need to let your mind explore, but you also need to bring it back to the present."
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I'm trying, really I am. But sometimes, like in physics class with Andrew, there's just so much to think about."
"And what about Whiskers?" Louise asked gently. "You can't let your focus on the project—or on Andrew— take over, you know."
Her words echoed in my mind. I realized she was right. I had to find a way to balance these things. Maybe, just maybe, I could focus on the project without letting it consume me entirely. Maybe, just maybe, I could focus on the present, on the tangible world around me. Maybe I could still be present when Andrew, the dragon's tail, was beckoning.