“Figures.” Ellen slumped in her camp chair. “We’re leaving Sunday.”
“Hey, we’re leaving Sunday too,” another woman said, gesturing toward her companion. “We’re taking dogs home, so we figure the return trip to Nevada is going to take close to three days if we stop at night. We want to be home for Thanksgiving.”
“I have to be home for Thanksgiving too,” Ellen murmured, as she raised her arms in a gesture of surrender. “I have fifteen people coming to my house for dinner!” Expressions of sympathy followed her announcement.
“We were planning to leave Monday,” June said.
Several other camp volunteers made similar comments.
Finally, Mark chuckled. “Looks like I may be one of the few sticking around. Guess we’ll be a little busier than usual.”
“Sticking around for what?” Joe had come up behind Alice.
“Thanksgiving,” Mark said.
“Oh. Yeah.” Joe’s voice was glum. “A lot of our volunteers are leaving to go home in time for Thanksgiving. It’s going to be tough here. And frankly, I’m worried about how many volunteers we can count on after Thanksgiving and throughout the holiday season. It’s all too easy for the world to forget disasters. Folks might assume our work is done.”
“Why don’t you ask every person leaving to try to send down a replacement?” Alice suggested. She knew that if she had not made the trip and seen firsthand the scope of the disaster’s impact on pets, she might indeed assume help was no longer needed.
“That’s a good idea!” Joe scribbled on his clipboard. “And I can ask them to post requests for help on some of the online bulletin boards too. If people understand that our need for assistance is going to last for many more weeks…”
“But that still doesn’t solve your Thanksgiving problem,” June pointed out.
“No, it doesn’t.” Joe’s customary cheery facade slipped for a moment, and Alice saw the fatigue he hid so well much of the time. He straightened his shoulders. “Hanna, Corinne, Riley and I will be staying, as well as Mark, Gina, Edmund and a few of the volunteers. I guess we’ll just have to manage somehow. No more intake, that’s for sure.”
“No more intake?” Alice was aghast. “But who will take the animals the teams find?”
“We won’t send any teams in. Other shelters might, depending on how their volunteer rosters look.”
Alice tried to hide her dismay as Joe went on his way. She suspected those shelters would be facing the same manpower crisis, which meant animals in need would not be rescued for days. She feared rescue might arrive too late for many of them. She had seen how thin and starving the latest arrivals had been. Further delay would cost the lives of who knew how many suffering pets. She could hardly bear to think of it. From their silence as others put their Bibles away and went back to work, she was pretty sure they felt the same way.
The heat broke on Sunday, just as Corinne predicted.
When Alice awoke just before dawn and stepped out of her tent, the air was noticeably cooler and fresher. She should have been happy, but all she could think of was that she would be leaving in just one more day.
Ellen crawled out of her tent next door. “It’s about time. Doesn’t this cool air feel heavenly?”
“It does. Is there anything I can do to help you pack?” Alice recalled that Ellen and the twins were leaving today. “What time are you planning to leave?”
Ellen hesitated. Finally, she grinned and shrugged. “I don’t think we’re leaving. I drove into town last night and called my husband. There’s so much need here that I wouldn’t be able to enjoy a holiday meal. All I would be thinking about is how many dogs still need to be walked, how many animals need their meds, how many more still are out there waiting to be rescued. So I asked him to call my mother and sisters and see if they were all right with having dinner elsewhere—without us.”
“And what did they say?”
“I don’t know yet. We agreed that I’d drive into town again this morning after early chores and the morning meeting. I’ll call him back to see if that plan would fly.”
Alice was silent for a moment. “Would you mind if I rode along with you?”
Ellen’s eyes lit with interest. “Any special reason?”
“I’d like to stay also,” Alice confessed. “But it depends on how June feels, so I’ll have to talk to her first.”
“Talk to June about what?” Her friend stood yawning in the morning air. “Wow! It feels great out here. It’ll be nice not to be a walking sponge all day.”
Alice and Ellen both laughed.
Then Alice said, “Ellen has decided to stay longer if her family at home agrees.” She hesitated. “How would you feel about staying longer?”
“You mean through the Thanksgiving holiday?”
Alice nodded hesitantly. “If possible.”
“Oh, Alice, I’d love to!” June threw her arms around Alice in an exuberant hug. “It’s all I’ve thought about since Joe talked to us yesterday. The folks at the Coffee Shop are okay with my staying longer. I was going to my son’s in Philadelphia for the meal, but I know he and my daughter will understand when I explain.” Her enthusiastic manner faded. “But what about your family?”
“My sisters will understand,” she said. “My biggest question is going to be whether the hospital can manage without me a little longer.”
“Well!” Ellen raised her coffee mug in a mock toast. “Let’s hop on our chores, girls. Sounds like we have some telephone calls to make this morning!”
Jane was tossing herbs together for the cranberry stuffing she intended to make later in the week when the telephone rang. Louise had gone to Karin Lindars’ home to discuss plans for the Santa Lucia service, so Jane hurried to answer the call.
Grabbing a dishtowel to wipe her hands, she reached for the portable telephone on its cradle in the kitchen. “Grace Chapel Inn. This is Jane speaking. May I help you?”
“Jane?”
“Alice! Hello. How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
But something in her sister’s voice made Jane’s mental antennae quiver. “No, you’re not. What’s wrong?” Her imagination began to run wild. “Were you hurt by an animal? Are you in a dangerous area? Is there’”
“Whoa!” Alice was laughing and Jane felt her tense muscles begin to relax. “I’m fine. Truly. Just a little nervous.”
“Why are you nervous?”
“Is Louise home?”
The abrupt change of topic confused Jane. “Louise? Ah, no, she’s meeting with Karin again. Why?”
“I have something to ask you both. But this may be my only chance to get to a telephone for several more days, so I suppose I’ll have to run it by you and let you explain to Louise.”
“All right. Shoot.” Jane could not imagine what Alice could—“Oh no. No, no, no. You can’t bring animals home, Alice. Absolutely not. You know what Louise will say. Not to mention poor Wendell. He is king of the castle around here, and I cannot imagine he would be happy to have to share with another animal.”
“That’s not it.” Alice chuckled again. “At least, not right now. Goodness, you have a vivid imagination.” Her voice sobered. “It’s about Thanksgiving. Jane, would you be terribly upset if June and I stayed down here an extra week?”
“An extra week? That’s…that’s a long time. Can you take that much time away from work?”
“I already checked and they said they can manage. I guess I’m lucky that my supervisor is an animal lover. She told me it was no trouble. June has no problem with staying, but if you’re swamped at the inn, I’ll come home.”
There was a short silence. “You’re needed there so much?”
“Very much. A great many of the volunteers are leaving to get home in time for Thanksgiving, and they are going to be understaffed here through next weekend.”
“I’m sure they will be,” murmured Jane. Then she paused. “What’s that Karen Carpenter song we used to like? ‘(There’s No Pl
ace Like) Home for the Holidays.’”
“There isn’t. But I’ve prayed about this, and I feel that it is what God wants from me. I know it’s a lot to ask, and I will miss sharing the meal with you terribly, but I believe this is one of the most important missions I have ever participated in, Jane. I wish you could be here to see the change in the animals as they begin to recover from their ordeal.”
Jane thought about it. “Oh, Alice, you have to follow your heart. If you feel called to stay, then who am I to tell you not to listen? God will accept your thanks and praise just as easily in Florida as He will if you’re sitting at home with your family. Louise and I will miss you, but it sounds as if you’re needed down there.”
“Oh, Jane, thank you. Do you think Louise will understand?”
“I do. She’s going to be disappointed, but I know she’ll support you, Alice.”
“Thank you, Jane. Thank you so much. I’ll try to call again before Thanksgiving, but if you don’t hear from me, don’t worry. June and I plan to leave for home a week from tomorrow.”
Chapter Eleven
Upon their return to camp, Alice, June and Ellen were barely out of the car when Ellen’s children came charging toward them.
“What did Dad say, Mom?”
“Can we stay?”
Ellen kept her eyes downcast as she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door. Alice watched, puzzled.
“Oh man,” Royce said. “He said we have to come home, didn’t he?”
“No! We can’t leave,” Miranda protested. “Joe and the others need us. There are too many animals for them to take care of. Oh, Mom, you have to go back to town. Take me and let me talk to him.” Miranda’s voice was impassioned and Alice could feel her distress.
Ellen stood. “He said…we can stay!” She threw open her arms on the last words and laughed as both teens ran to her, hugging her wildly even as they scolded her for teasing them.
Behind the children, Alice saw Mark approaching. His blue eyes were questioning as he looked at her. “What did your sisters say?”
“Louise wasn’t home, so I only spoke to Jane. But she was wonderfully understanding when I explained that I’ve been praying about it and I feel compelled to stay. June’s children also said they didn’t mind if she stayed, so I guess the five of us will be with you through Thanksgiving.”
Mark’s smile warmed her clear down to her toes. “Fantastic!”
“I’m going to tell Joe,” Miranda announced. “He’s going to be so happy.”
Alice walked quickly back to the CCU. Although she had not had any heat-exhaustion patients in the past day or so, she liked to be aware of any medical issues that cropped up. Besides, Gina might need her help.
The object of her thoughts was seated on the steps of the house as Alice approached.
“Hey, Alice,” Gina called. “How did you guys make out?”
“Ellen, the kids, June and I all are staying through the Thanksgiving weekend,” Alice reported.
“That’s terrific!” Gina also was going to be staying, for which Alice was thankful. She could not imagine how upset Dr. Spade would be if he learned that his one technician was going to leave and he would have no other help but Alice. “Hey,” Gina was saying, “would you see if you can get that shepherd in the bottom left-hand corner to eat?”
“He still hasn’t eaten?” Alice was aghast.
Gina shook her head glumly. “I’ve tried everything. Even Dr. Spade has tried, but he just turns his head away.”
“Poor baby,” Alice said. She was worried. The shepherd couldn’t afford to miss a single meal. His hold on life was tenuous at best, and if he didn’t eat soon, he might not recover. “Could they put in a feeding tube?” That was usually the next step with human patients who were not eating.
“We don’t have the medical staff or the resources to monitor an animal with a feeding tube. Besides, he’s already in such bad condition that surgery probably would kill him.”
“I’ll sit with him,” Alice offered. “I don’t know if I can do anything for him, but I can try.”
She went inside and washed her hands. After making certain there were no human medical problems, she moved on to the CCU. To her relief, Dr. Spade was not about. Mark soon joined her and briefed her on the shepherd’s condition.
“I can’t find anything drastically wrong,” he said. “We don’t have the resources here for exploratory surgery. But my instinct tells me he doesn’t need surgery. I think he’s dying of a broken heart.”
“A broken heart. Can that really happen?” But she knew it could. She had seen it in human patients throughout her years of nursing. People just gave up. It only made sense that the same thing could happen with an animal.
“It’s a disease of the spirit,” Mark said. “As a veterinarian, I hate to say there’s nothing I can do, but I’m at a loss. All we can do is pray.” He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. “Don’t feel too bad if you don’t succeed. We can’t save them all.”
But Alice was determined to try. Mark left to examine another animal while she prepared a bowl of soft food and carried it to the kennel.
As she approached the sick dog, she was filled with sympathy. The shepherd lay listlessly. It did not even lift its head, although its eyes flicked briefly in her direction. Alice opened the kennel door and sat down on the recently cleaned floor just outside the kennel.
“Hey, buddy,” she whispered. “How would you like something to eat?” She reached in a fisted hand and held it before the dog’s nose, letting the animal get her scent, but the dog still did not stir. “What’s the matter?” she asked. “Are you missing your folks? I bet somebody loves you very much.”
She could not comprehend an owner who would go away and leave this beautiful animal behind, but in all fairness, she recognized that many coastal residents were so used to hurricanes that did not become dangerous in their area that they often were lackadaisical about evacuation. This dog’s family probably expected to be home again by dinnertime. The card on the front of the cage gave an address and the circumstances under which the animal had been found. This was the dog, she recalled, that had been found lying in the wreckage of a collapsed home.
“Come on, boy,” Alice said. She waved the food before the dog, but there was no response. After several futile attempts, she reached into the bowl and got some food on her fingers. She was aware that she did not know this dog, but she felt no menace. Lord, she prayed, help me. Use my hands to save this life. But after thirty minutes, she saw no evidence that the shepherd was interested in eating, even from her open hand.
Then an idea occurred to her. Maybe the dog would eat if he didn’t have to expend any effort in the process. Leaving the kennel, Alice prepared a liquid gruel of high-calorie dog food and filled a large syringe with it. The syringe had a blunt tip for feeding rather than a needle at its end.
She returned to the kennel, this time reaching in to move the shepherd. She lifted the massive head into her lap and began to stroke the dog’s soft fur, tracing the lovely markings and fondling the large, upright ears that were wilted back against its skull. “Let’s try a little food, buddy,” she coaxed. Taking the syringe, she held it to the corner of the dog’s mouth and carefully depressed the plunger just far enough to squeeze a small amount of food along the dog’s gum line.
Still, the dog didn’t respond. Even though there was food lying right in his mouth, he wouldn’t make the effort.
Alice’s heart sank. “Come on, boy,” she said. “You can’t quit. What if your family’s coming back? I bet they’re searching everywhere for you. You can’t let them down. You made it this far.” She bent her head and brushed a kiss across the crown of the dog’s head.
And she felt the shepherd move. Afraid to make a sudden gesture that might startle the dog, she strained to see out of the corner of her eye. What she saw made her heart swell with gratitude. The dog had licked his chops and the food Alice gave him was gone.
Thank Yo
u, Lord. Thank You so much.
Lifting her head, Alice squeezed another small bit of food out, and this time, the dog licked its mouth right away. On the third try, he actually stirred, lifting his head for a second before laying it back in Alice’s lap.
The door of the CCU opened. Mark and Dr. Spade came in, discussing how best to treat a wound. She heard Mark’s soft exclamation and then both sets of footsteps stopped, but she was afraid to move too much.
“Alice?”
“Hi. He’s eating,” she whispered.
“That woman shouldn’t be reaching in there.” Dr. Spade kept his voice low, but there was anger in his tone. “All we need is for one of these people to get bitten and sue the pants off of every rescue organization imaginable.”
“Alice wouldn’t do that,” Mark said. “Besides, I don’t believe she’s going to get bitten. Look.”
The shepherd’s tail had begun a slow wave back and forth across the blanket as Alice fondled the thick ruff at its neck. She held the syringe against the side of the dog’s mouth and depressed the plunger again, and this time, the white teeth parted, allowing Alice to squirt some food directly into its mouth.
“Let’s let them alone.” Mark’s voice was low and gentle.
“All right,” Dr. Spade responded. Then he looked down at Alice. “Please be careful. We can’t afford to lose our hardest worker.”
Both men turned and quietly left the critical care unit while Alice sat there staring. Had Dr. Spade just said something kind? Something complimentary? She raised her hand and pretended to check her own forehead for fever. “You must have imagined that,” she said to herself.
She bent over and kissed the shepherd again. “What a good boy you are. Let’s finish this up, and maybe you can eat some out of a bowl.”
Reaching for the bowl she’d prepared earlier, she set it in the kennel and was thrilled to see the dog lift his head and sniff the food. He wasn’t standing, but that didn’t surprise her, given his weak and emaciated appearance. “Eat up, buddy,” she murmured.
Saints Among Us Page 12
