“Next time you call, tell her about this emergency.”
“I will, if there is a next time,” Lauren mumbled. Minnie, the other PVS veterinary technician, jogged into the treatment room. “They’re here.”
Lauren snapped out of her reverie.
Val and Minnie wheeled the dog into the treatment room on the stretcher and Val laid a hand on the animal’s head. “Poor Max.”
Lauren studied the dog. Max was a medium-sized black and white border collie with gentle, intelligent eyes. The tip of his muzzle was white and blended into a white band that stretched up his nose and forehead, ending between his eyes. Under a layer of filth, his chest, belly, and paws were white. Minnie and Val hooked him up to an IV. Then Lauren helped Val take X-rays.
Lauren examined the X-rays. “He’s bright and alert, and in decent shape considering.” Lauren wrinkled her nose. “It’s a horrible fracture and several days old.” She seethed with indignation. Max had a mangled right front leg and his paw drooped. “An unsupported compound fracture would be excruciating.”
Tears slid down Val’s cheeks. “Why do people do this? I don’t understand. The poor puppy.” Val petted Max on the head and ran a soft ear through her fingers. Max responded by carefully licking tears off Val’s cheek. “What a good boy he is. We should call the SPCA.”
“Maybe.” Lauren strode into the waiting room. She almost tripped when she spotted Callie sitting two chairs away from Roberta Macpherson. Callie was bent at the waist talking to Roberta’s small son, Nelson, who stood in front of Callie with his hands on her knees. An instant later, Callie glanced up, and they shared a warm smile.
“Doctor?” Roberta said.
Lauren shifted her focus to the other woman. “Hello, Mrs. Macpherson.” Lauren approached Roberta. “Would you like to go into an exam room to discuss Max’s condition?”
Roberta glanced at Callie and shrugged. “It’s okay with me if Callie hears,” Roberta said.
“Max’s injuries are not as bad as they could be. His chest, abdomen, spine, and other legs are normal. But he has multiple fractures of his right front leg. He requires extensive orthopedic surgery with pins and plates to hold the bones while they heal. We’ll stabilize the fracture and refer you to the WCVM.”
“That’s the veterinary college in Saskatoon. I heard they’re expensive. Can’t you do the bone pinning?”
“Orthopedics is a complicated specialty and we don’t have the right surgical instruments to do that surgery. It’ll cost about three thousand dollars at the college, but it’s the best chance of recovery for Max. How long ago was his leg injured?”
“On Sunday. We hoped he’d improve, but now he reeks.”
Lauren felt an angry rant building. She dug her fingernails into her palms and concentrated on keeping her tone neutral. “After three days there may be too much tissue damage and injury to the nerves and blood vessels to save the leg.”
Roberta frowned at Lauren. “I won’t spend three thousand dollars on a pet. The kids love him, but he’s only a dog. I’ll get them a puppy from my cousin.” Roberta waved her hands in front of her as though done with the matter. “I better just take him home.”
Callie’s gasp at the lack of compassion was quiet, but Lauren heard it. Roberta might have heard it, but she didn’t react. Lauren swallowed and kept smiling at Roberta, but her jaw throbbed from clenching it. “He’s not in any shape to move and it would be agonizing. It would be kinder if I euthanized him before you took him home.”
Lauren had the urge to say it was more humane to euthanize the poor dog, but that would imply Roberta had been inhumane and piss her off. A pissed-off Roberta might snatch her dog and leave. There was always the SPCA, but Max required rescuing now. Lauren took a deep breath and spoke. “It costs eighty dollars for a euthanasia.”
Roberta scratched her head. “I’ll check with Colin.” She walked away to phone her husband and Nelson trailed after her. Lauren plopped into a chair beside Callie
Callie was perched on the edge of a chair, her fingers white where they gripped the plastic edge. Her eyes sparked with anger. “What’s this? What’s she thinking?” she asked softly.
Lauren frowned. This was nothing new. She had seen this before in Ontario and Saskatchewan. “To some people a sick dog is a dead dog. Harsh, but you heard her. She can get a new puppy for free, so why spend money on Max?”
Callie glared in Roberta’s direction as if she wanted to hit something or somebody.
Lauren sensed Callie was on the verge of exploding. “Give me a minute to speak with her. I’ve not given up on Max.” Lauren loved that Callie felt the injustice of the situation, but her approach would have to be more professional and diplomatic. Unlike her first interaction with Callie, which had been anything but. Besides, if Callie yelled at Roberta, she might stomp out of the clinic and take Max. Her priority was to save Max any more suffering.
Callie gave a sharp nod, and with another horrified glance at Roberta, she slid back into her chair. She crossed her legs and then crossed her arms, the very picture of a woman keeping herself from whacking someone over the head.
Lauren strode to within several feet of Roberta and waited for the call to finish.
Roberta lowered her phone. “I talked to Colin. We’re not spending a fortune on a dog.” She laughed as if it was a crazy idea.
Lauren stepped toward Roberta and struggled to control her irritation. “Amputation at PVS is an option. Most dogs learn to walk on three legs.” She spoke in clipped tones. “He’s a light dog and should walk well with one front leg. The infection already in the wound is a concern, but it’s worth giving him a chance. I’ll take care of him for eight hundred dollars.”
“Still too much money, Dr. Cornish.”
Lauren was aware she had negotiated for the dog’s life and lost. Eight hundred dollars was as low as she should go, and when she factored in the supplies, surgery costs, and nursing care the clinic would only break even. Frustration built. She couldn’t go any lower unless she paid for it herself.
“And we won’t pay you to put him to sleep. We have a twenty-two at home.” Roberta’s voice lacked emotion.
Lauren looked away so Roberta couldn’t see how disgusted she was. Roberta Macpherson had pushed her patience too far. It was a strain to hang on to her professionalism. Val was right. They should call the SPCA.
Callie jumped to her feet. “I’ll take him.”
Roberta stared at Callie. “What?”
Callie crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one hip. “Give me Max and I’ll pay his bills.”
“Callie, you’re crazy, but he’s all yours.” Roberta cackled as she walked to the counter and completed the forms to sign Max over to Callie. Clearly, she wasn’t going to reject the easy solution. “Thanks, Callie.” Roberta gave a little wave as she and Nelson exited the clinic.
Callie faced Lauren. “He was her pet. How could she be so cold and unfeeling?”
Lauren shook her head. “On some farms, animals are a tool, and when a tool breaks people do a cost-benefit analysis and decide whether to fix the tool. To Roberta, Max is just a tool for herding cattle or guarding the farm.”
Callie looked incredulous. “Do you believe that, Lauren?”
“Not as it pertains to Max, but could you keep a cow that couldn’t give you a calf?”
Callie’s arms dropped to her sides. “Max is a pet, not livestock, and he suffered for three days with a broken leg.”
“Abandoning any animal to suffer is unconscionable.”
“I agree.” Callie squeezed Lauren’s forearm. “Well, now I have a dog. I met Max before when I dropped Becky off to play with Lisa Macpherson. He’s a sweet dog, and I’d like to save him.”
“Shall we review your options?”
Callie shook her head. “I can find three thousand dollars for the veterinary college.” She didn’t look totally confident in her statement. “But if the WCVM can’t save his leg, I’ll go with the amputation option for e
ight hundred. I’d prefer you do it because I trust you to look after my dog.”
“He’ll do well on three legs. We have a veterinary saying; ‘Dogs have three legs and a spare.’ I’ll call you at home when the surgery is over and let you know how he’s doing.” Lauren turned to go but stopped. “Oh, did you need something else? We weren’t expecting you.”
Callie shuffled her feet and stuck her hands in the pockets of her coat. “I was in town for more electrolytes for the calves and I thought I’d invite you to a late lunch, but now you have surgery.”
“I’d love to have lunch, but we have to take care of Max. Then I have two other surgeries to do and an afternoon of vaccinations. I’ll be lucky to escape by nine.” For an instant, she warmed at the idea of a meal with Callie, but then balked at the idea of being seen by the whole town having lunch with a woman. A woman who was single, pretty…and a client.
“Another time?”
Lauren nodded, and they smiled at each other. Callie clasped Lauren’s hands, and Lauren gave Callie’s a confident squeeze before she jogged to the surgery room. Callie’s visit was a nice surprise, and it left her slightly breathless.
Val and Minnie had Max anesthetized. Lauren stroked the sleeping dog’s head. “You have a new owner, Max. It’ll be amputation for ole Max. Not the ideal solution, but with his leg in this shape, amputation is his best chance of survival.”
Val frowned. “I heard it all. It’s been a while since I wanted to punch a client.”
“Almost two days.” Minnie laughed and scampered away as Val reached for her.
“Let me know when you’re ready.” Lauren headed to her office to review the anatomy for the surgery in one of her medical textbooks.
Later, Val tapped on Lauren’s office door. “We’ve prepped Max for surgery and Callie left a down payment of three hundred dollars.” Val waggled her eyebrows. “Oh, and Callie forgot her electrolytes. Wasn’t that her reason for dropping in? Looks like she’ll have to come back.”
Lauren shook her head as she followed Val to the surgery room. “Stop meddling. I’m single and happy.”
Val shrugged and gave her a knowing look before they got to work. And as Lauren pulled on her gloves, she decided it was almost true. She wasn’t happy but she was content. Callie would be a nice friend to have, but that was it. Romantic entanglements were just a heartbreak waiting to happen. She would concentrate on her work. When she was in medical mode, life made sense.
Chapter Eight
Callie flung open the door of her house and set the bags of groceries on the floor. She kicked off her boots and tossed her coat on a hook. Then she bounded into her kitchen, snagged Martha around the waist, and lifted her as she spun in a circle. Callie was four inches taller than Martha and her sister’s feet didn’t touch the floor.
“Let me go. Put me down.” They were laughing when Callie lowered Martha to the floor. Martha narrowed her eyes. “Why so happy, little sister? Nice lunch? Get all your errands done?”
“All done and I’ve already unloaded the bags of feed and the new equipment.” Luckily, she’d remembered to pick up electrolytes at the feed store.
Callie talked as she put the groceries away. “I had an amazing day. I bought a three-legged dog for eight hundred dollars.”
Martha nudged Callie. “Did you have too many glasses of wine at lunch or are you drunk on fantasies of the sexy vet?”
“She didn’t have time for lunch. Lauren had patients waiting after Max’s surgery.” Callie told Martha the story of Max’s injury and abandonment.
“I’m not sure it was financially sensible, but I’m glad you helped that poor dog.”
“Lauren’s wonderful and promised me she’d look after my dog.” Callie spun in a circle in the kitchen. “You should’ve seen her face while she talked to Roberta Macpherson. You’ve got to love a woman in green scrubs and a white lab coat.”
“Uniforms again? What is it with lesbians?”
“What a cliché I am.” In her dress uniform with her red serge jacket, Liz had been breathtaking. Callie hugged Martha and then held her hands. “The attraction isn’t the uniform, but the air of confidence and strength that goes with the uniform. Confidence is S-E-X-Y, big sister.” But in her experience, too much confidence made the other person think they should be in charge. A confident friend was okay, though.
Callie’s musings were put on hold as Becky bounded through the mudroom door and tossed her backpack on the floor.
“Hi, Mommy, hi, Aunt Martha.” Becky hugged each of them and then peeked in the pot on the stove.
Callie grabbed Becky and gave her a big squeeze. “Dinner is almost ready.” She looked at Martha.
Martha nodded. “Thirty minutes.”
“Can you wait, or do you need a snack?” Callie kissed the top of Becky’s head. She was five-ten and Becky was getting closer to her chin every day. Her kid was growing like a weed.
“I can wait, thanks. Gwen posted some new pictures online and I want to look at them.” Becky slid from Callie’s arms and loped upstairs.
Callie snagged the backpack off the floor, winked at Martha, and followed Becky.
Callie sat on Becky’s bed and watched her fiddle with the computer. She leaned closer to look at Gwen’s pictures. They were all of animals, some taken at the clinic. Val and Lauren were smiling at the camera in some. “Gwen must spend a lot of time at work with her mother.” Val was a redhead, pretty and petite. Lauren said Val had a girlfriend, but Callie had never picked up a gay vibe from her. So much for gaydar.
Becky laughed. “Look at the puppies. They’re so cute. Look, there’s a link to a video. Gwen said Lauren and her mom delivered them. Gwen said Lauren let her watch. Gwen said Lauren let her hold them right after they were born. Gwen said Lauren let her rub them dry, but that she had to be careful. Gwen said Lauren is really nice and lets her help all the time.”
Callie grinned. Gwen was right. Lauren was nice. “Would you like a puppy?”
Becky swiveled in her chair and focused on Callie. “Can we, please? I would love a puppy and I would take care of him always.” Becky pointed at the computer screen. “Can I have one of those?”
Callie squinted at the tiny animals. “They’re small, even for puppies. Are they poodles? Wouldn’t you like a farm dog? Maybe a collie? One that can run down to the creek with you?” Callie grinned. Every farm kid wanted a dog and she had the perfect one.
Becky clapped her hands. “Yes please, Mommy.”
Callie couldn’t resist hugging Becky and dropping several kisses on the top of her head. “Good. Well, here’s your backpack, which you left in the kitchen, again.”
“Sorry, Mommy.”
Callie headed to the door. “That’s okay. Please wash up and come down and help me set the table.”
“Wait, Mommy. I have something to show you.”
Callie turned and watched Becky dig through her backpack and then dump the contents on her bed.
“Here it is.” Becky handed a brochure to Callie.
Callie opened the cover and studied the pictures of a large Charolais bull. It listed his pedigree and the performance of his progeny. Then it listed the cost of having one cow bred. The cost was astronomical.
“He said that bull’s called Bulldozer.”
Callie froze as she read the caption under the bull. Bulldozer. Owner: Kruger Farms. “Who said?” she snapped.
“Mr. Kruger. He stopped at school while I was waiting for the bus and asked me to give it to you.” Becky sat on her bed and slowly placed her schoolbooks into her backpack. “Did I do something wrong?”
Callie crumpled the brochure and jammed it into her pocket. Then she dropped onto the bed and pulled Becky into her lap. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong.” She rocked Becky while fear and anger flowed through her. “Was it Mr. Heinz Kruger?”
“Yes.” Becky touched Callie’s cheek. “Are you okay?”
“Mr. Kruger scares me, and I would like it if you didn’t talk to hi
m again. Or his sons. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, Mommy. I didn’t like him either. His breath smelled like floor cleaner.”
The hair on her neck stood up. Heinz Kruger had been drinking and then approached her daughter at school. She would call the principal in the morning.
“Hey, you two, dinner’s ready,” Martha called from the kitchen.
Callie sat Becky on the bed and kissed her cheeks. “Let’s eat.” She stifled the strange urge to count all Becky’s fingers and toes. The Krugers were sharks. They had been circling her, but now they were approaching her daughter. It was time to grow a backbone and do something about it. If only she knew what to do about it.
After dinner, Callie washed the dishes and set them in the strainer to dry. Becky had run upstairs, hopefully to do her homework.
“You’re quiet,” Martha said. “You hardly said two words all through dinner.”
“Sorry, I was thinking.”
“About a certain veterinarian?” Martha waggled her eyebrows as she spooned the leftover dinner into several plastic containers.
Callie blinked. She’d been worrying about Kruger and was about to tell Martha about the brochure, but thoughts of Lauren were more pleasant. “Sure, yeah.” She glanced at her watch. “She’s probably still at work. Mar, there’s lots of leftovers, what if I take her some?”
Martha grinned and handed Callie one of the plastic containers.
* * *
At eight in the evening, Lauren closed the last of the patient files. She stretched her shoulders and rubbed her eyes. Her first calving had been at five a.m. Max’s surgery had gone well and she’d stayed to administer pain medication to keep him comfortable, and to ensure he left his IV alone. Dogs often fidgeted and pinched off or tore out IV lines. Some pets chewed them off, so she had to watch him. A cone over his head prevented him from reaching his sutures, but he could still reach the IV line.
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