The doctor came in to the examination room, flipping through Buffalo’s file.
“It’s your ticker,” he said. “It’s about to give up.”
Buffalo shifted, the paper covering underneath him crinkled loudly in the quiet room. The doctor laid a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s not all that bad,” he said. “There is a procedure. Today’s technology can do wonderful things. He opened a small magazine and began flipping through it.
“A man your size would need something like a bungalow or ranch. A smaller farmhouse.” the doctor said, pointing out the options. “Or something more traditional, a log cabin maybe?”