Untrusting (Troubled) (4 page)

Steve helps me move the dog to the
operating room.  That’s when I see Miss Lili in the waiting room. 
She offers her help so I ask her to pass me instruments.  I have to clean
spots on the dog so I can give him a couple of shots and shave the incision
area.  I hope a local pain kill will do the job because with the concussion,
I’m afraid to put him to sleep.  I need to make a two inch incision so I
can move the rib.  I explain all this to Steve and Miss Lili and that the
dog may move or snap when I do the procedure.  They’re prepared, but the
dog’s so weak that it whimpers, but is unable to move.  I get him stitched
up and onto a board built for animals and move him to the room with the cot in
it, putting him on the floor.  I need to stay with this one.  I want
to keep him comfortable, but I can’t give him a shot for pain yet.

I stand to go to the meds closet, I
want to give the dog a shot to help with the swelling from the concussion, and
stagger.  Steve catches me and pulls me into a hug.  I sob, hearing
it for the first time.  He holds me ‘til I gain my composure, then loosens
his hold, kissing my head as he moves.  “You did great.”  I see his
shirt’s really wet.

Miss Lili comes in with a cup of
coffee and makes me take a few sips.  She’s been crying, too.  “I
didn’t know if you would make through the whole process, crying as hard as you
were,” she says.

“How long have I been
crying?”  I take a sip of the coffee, she’d sweetened it.  It tastes
good.

“Since the first whimper the dog
made, almost two hours ago.”  Steve helps me to a chair.  “What else
do you need to do?” he asks.

“I’ve got to give the dog a shot
for the swelling from the concussion.  About two hours after that, I have
to check the swelling and if I can, I want to give him something for the pain.”

“I hope the owner is put before a
firing squad for this.”  Miss Lili is really upset about the dogs.

“The driver was D.O.A. (dead on
arrival)” Steve says.  “He fell asleep at the wheel, as best the H.P.
(Highway Patrol) can tell.  There were no skid marks on the highway.”

“That was too good for him.” 
Miss Lili is really mad.

I get up after a few more sips, get
the supplies and medication and give the dog the shot.

Bob comes in and Maria arrives a
few minutes later.  Steve tells them why we’re here and Bob and Maria want
me to go to Miss Lili’s for some sleep.  I refuse because I have to give
the other shot shortly, so they insist I stretch out on the cot.  Someone
will wake me in two hours.

While I sleep, Steve sleeps on the
floor with a blanket Bob gave him.  Miss Lili, Maria and Bob check the
other dogs and start charts on them, giving them numbers and collar with a tag
for identification.  Maria takes the vitals of the dog I’d operated on and
starts a chart on him.  She wakes me right on time, letting Steve sleep.
 Maria has covered the dog with a heated blanket, his temperature was
low.  I check his eyes and have Bob help me move the dog to the x-ray
room.  The pictures show the brain swelling’s down, so I give him a shot
for pain.

I ask Maria to call the H.P. to see
if there were any papers on the dogs in the wreckage.  They call back two
hours later saying there’s nothing.  I vaccinate all the adult dogs and
give the older puppies their distemper shots.  I examine them closer to
place their ages and breeds to add to their charts.  All the dogs are pure
bred but there are various breeds in the kennels.  Maria counts the dogs,
thirty, counting the puppies.  They’re puppy mill animals, can’t be
anything else, with that count.

Now, I need to get some fluids into
the shepherd in the other room.  I offer him water, but he can’t drink, so
I hook up an I.V.  Maria tells me to go back to bed, she’ll watch the
dogs, and wake me again in two hours.  Steve’s still asleep and the dog is
back on the floor next to the cot.  I’m asleep as soon as my head hits the
pillow.

When Maria wakes me in two hours,
Steve isn’t on the floor.  I get a cup of coffee, noticing Bob isn’t here,
either.  I ask Maria about them.  She says they’ve gone out to the
site of the wreck to see if there’re anymore injured dogs that were
overlooked.  Half of the volunteer firemen went with them.  Lili has
gone to get something for us to eat.

I check on the shepherd.  His
temperature’s fine and Maria and I carry him in to be x-rayed again.  The
fluids haven’t caused any swelling of the brain and the dog seems to be doing
better now he has fluids in him.  The dogs were out for a run before
everyone left.  Miss Lili took the one with a broken leg out and sat in
the grass while he, a Chihuahua, did his business, hopping around on three legs
and dragging his cast.  Maria says some of the puppies are weaned so she
fed them soft puppy chow, not knowing how they’d react to hard food.  The
dogs that weren’t injured were allowed to stay out longer for exercise. 
She did the right thing, I tell her.

Miss Lili comes in with enough food
in her tricycle basket to feed us and the guys when they get back.  The
phone rings as we finish eating.  Maria answers and speaks to the fireman
at the station for a few minutes.  The guys are on their way in with three
more injured dogs.  They took pictures of the four dead for the H.P. and
buried them.  I can’t believe the injured dogs were overlooked.  I
start cleaning up the exam rooms and getting things set up for the new
patients.

Steve, Bob and six others arrive,
crowding into the waiting room, wanting to help in any way they can.  I’m
surprised to see two of the volunteer firemen are women.  Maria takes
charge, sending three of them to the back yard to watch the uninjured dogs
while they get some exercise.  The others are put to work cleaning the
kennels.

Steve, Maria and I take over the
new arrivals.  Two of them are puppies and suffering from exposure. 
So we clean them up and put them under heat lamps.  The last, a pregnant
dog, is barely alive.  An x-ray tells me there’s no way to save her. 
Her vitals are very low, she’s coughing up blood and both lungs are
punctured.  One puppy’s alive, inside her, and from the looks only about a
week from being born.  Steve asks if I’m going to save the puppy.  I
explain I can’t guarantee the puppy will live if I do go in after it. 
Miss Lili comes in and wants the puppy.  She’ll take care of it after its
birth.  Taking care of it isn’t the problem, I say.  Since the others
were killed I can’t guarantee the puppy isn’t injured and won’t die anyway. 
She asks me to save the puppy for her.

The puppy’s fine, after I get it
out, so she goes under a heat lamp and formula’s started.  Miss Lili
claims her as soon as I bring her out.  The mother died during the
operation.  I make up a report for the Highway Patrol, though I’m not sure
why.  The driver’s dead so no charges are expected to be pressed.

The others come in with the rest of
the dogs and want to claim some of them.  I can’t let them take them home,
yet.  The H.P. has legal custody--evidence.  They’re investigating and
aren’t sure where it will lead and they need the dogs held ‘til they’re
released.

 The firemen offer to come by
to help out when they can and I accept.  This is too many dogs for Maria
and me to handle alone.  We’ll take care of the injured and they’ll help
out with the other dogs ‘til the dogs can be claimed.  I tell them that
could be months, because of the search for the owners and charges once they’re
found.  They stay, having coffee and talking about the wreck.  They
were all there, helping with the wreckage this morning.  The story was
detailed and almost gory.

Maria has to go home, its supper
time and she hasn’t seen Shay all day.  Steve, Bob and the others leave,
too.   Miss Lili is sending supper over and asks if I can handle the puppy
through the night.  Of course, I can, I have to be up to check the
shepherd every two hours anyway.  I can feed the puppy while I’m up. 
Maria’s called the appointments for Monday to reschedule over the other
mornings of the week.  Most of them were nice about the change, but one or
two of them insisted on keeping the appointment Monday.  I’m exhausted, so
I go back to the cot as soon as everyone leaves.

Four hours later, I wake up more
rested and panic stricken.  I over slept the time to check on the Shepherd
and feed the puppy.  Steve comes to the door, “I checked him about two
hours ago.  He seemed fine.  I took his vitals, they’re on the
chart.”  I look at the chart and the dog’s vitals are fine.  I thank
him for the extra sleep.

“Grams sent supper over, but you were
sleeping so I put it in the refrigerator.  I’ll heat it up.  I fed
the puppy and took its vitals and charted them, too.  I was just about to
feed her again.  How long before the Shepherd can be left alone?”

“Not ‘til Tuesday
night…maybe.  It’ll depend on how he’s doing.”  The dog’s licking my
hand, as I’m checking him out.  His eyes are clearer, his breathing’s
good, the incision is good and now that I’m more rested, I can see he’s cleaner
than the other dogs.  “I wonder, since this dog was in the front with the
driver, if this was his dog.  If so, his family might want him back.”

“That would be nice for him, but
I’d miss him.  I’ve already gotten attached to him.  Chaucee is
crying for dinner.  I’d better get moving, Grams’ll have my ears if she
hears I made her wait.”  He goes to the back and I follow him.  He
knows where everything is and mixes it perfectly.  He explains Maria had
told Lili and over dinner, Miss Lili had “schooled” him on the proper procedure
for feeding her.  I laugh when he says he had to take an oral exam before
he was allowed to feed the puppy.  “Grams wants this puppy and the
Chihuahua with the broken leg when the time comes for the dogs to have a
home.  She’s grown attached to them and they’re small enough she can lift
them.”

“I’ll see what I can do.  If I
handle their adoptions, she’ll have her pick.  By the way, thanks for the
cry this morning.  I don’t usually react like that and didn’t notice I was
crying.”  I’m watching him handle Chaucee, he’s gentle and keeps her
wrapped lightly with a towel to keep her warm.  I have to look away, my
chest is hurting at the sight, so I pick up the chart Miss Lili had
started.  She catches on fast, it’s impeccable.  I check out the
puppy while Steve cleans up the bottle and puts things away.  The puppy’s
doing fine.  A few more days and I’ll try to foster her to a nursing mama
if Miss Lili okays it.

Steve and I take the other dogs out
for the last time tonight.  They’re so frisky, we let them play a while
then herd them back in and to bed.  Steve goes into one of the exam rooms
and comes back with a cot.  He sets it up along the wall where he had
slept on the floor earlier.   We set the alarm and go to sleep.

Sunday, we have more help than we
can handle.  Steve went home to sleep and shower, but he was back for the
night shift with me.   “I’ll be leaving about four, I’m on days this
week.  But I want you to sleep ‘til then.  I’ll be going back to bed
at the station but you’ll have this one,” indicating the Shepherd, ”and the
puppy to contend with ‘til Maria arrives, then your work day.  Grams said
she’ll be by to help with the puppy and anything else you need around lunch
time and she’ll bring lunch.  I hope you don’t mind my staying to help.”

“No, I don’t mind.  It would
be hard to handle it all without help, thanks.”   We turn out the
lights and go to sleep.  Once during the night I hear Steve moving
around.  At four thirty the phone rings and I stumble to find it. 
“Hello.”  It’s Steve calling to wake me so I can tend to Chaucee and the
Shepherd.  He says he’ll call me back in one and a half hours.  I
thank him, hang up, take care of the dogs, clean up the bottles and go back to
bed.

At six he calls again.  I get
up, check the Shepherd and feed the puppy.  Maria arrives before I
finish.  We let the dogs out and clean the kennels while they’re
out.  Food and water is put out before the dogs are let back in and it’s
devoured in a short amount of time.  The dogs are re-kenneled by nine
o’clock, my first appointment.

The day goes fine.  Miss Lili
brings a delicious lunch and takes over the puppy’s feedings, and exercising
the dogs.  We heard squealing out back, once, and had to rescue Miss Lili
from a puppy attack.  We had to shoo the puppies off to find her, she’s a
small, petit woman.  She’s laughing and, except for a scratch or two, is
just fine.  We help her up and herd the dogs back into the kennel room,
shut the door between the back and the exam rooms because we left the door to
the kennels open.  I collect the dogs with the sprains to check them
over.  Watching them get around, I wasn’t able tell them from the others
if not for the bandages.

I brought the bandaged dogs out to
watch them move around.  The injured animals were placed in upper kennels
so we could tell who needed to be watched.  The sprains are doing okay so
I move them down to a bottom kennel.  Only the Chihuahua remains in an
upper compartment.  The new puppies are put out with the rest of the dogs
for exercise and find their family and now I can’t find them, except when I
check all the numbered tags.  Thirty three dogs are in my back room,
that’s a lot for a small clinic.

I walk toward the back of the
office when I hear a whimper from the Shepherd.  I check on him and he’s
lifting his head.  I suspect he has some pain when he moves.  I look
at the chart and he hasn’t had a shot for pain for four hours, so I give him
one.  His eyes are clear, his vitals are strong and he’s doing okay. 
He goes back to sleep.  I’m going to have to move him around some to avoid
his lungs filling with fluid.  It’s going to hurt and I’m such a wimp when
it comes to causing pain.

The guys come in at closing
time.  We’d cleaned the kennels while the dogs were out about an hour
ago.  Maria’s in the back room with the dogs, who had settled into their
kennels, putting out extra food for the night.  Bob walks in and is
immediately surrounded by puppies, unable to move.  Maria goes to help
him, but falls into him when she stumbles trying to miss stepping on a
puppy.  He caught her in a hug and held on ‘til the puppies settled
down.  He asks her if he can take her and Shay to dinner before he lets
her go.  She says yes, without hesitation, she’s too tired to cook
tonight.