“In Your name we pray. Amen.”
“Amen.” A number of people around the table echoed the closing, but no one moved for a long moment. Finally Alice released Mark’s and June’s hands to pick up her paper towel and dab at her eyes. As she looked around, she saw that she was not the only one.
“Wow!” Seated beside Ellen, Kyle swiped the back of his arm across his eyes in a true too-manly-to-cry gesture. “Joe woulda made a good preacher.”
“He said everything that was in my heart,” Alice said quietly.
“Okay, folks,” Joe called out, “our chef has gone way above and beyond the call with this meal. Dig in!”
Someone chuckled and they all began to eat.
Much later that evening, the trucks rolled in with more animals. Darrell and Oren had gone out, forgoing their own Thanksgiving, on another rescue mission. Alice was glad to know Joe had set heaping plates of food aside for them on their return.
Along with everyone else, Alice worked to get every frightened, starving animal documented and cared for as quickly as possible. Her final intake was a cat, and she sucked in her breath in dismay when she saw its condition.
Corinne shook her head as she handed Alice the towel-wrapped cat. It was completely limp, eyes open and pupils appearing fixed, and it had a huge open wound along one side of its head. The only sign of life was a thin, barely audible wheezing cry that accompanied the release of each shallow breath.
“This is not hurricane damage. This injury is recent,” Alice said sadly. The cat was a gray-striped tabby that reminded her of Wendell right down to the four white stockings. She skipped any bathing and rushed it through intake straight to a vet exam. As luck—or lack of luck—would have it, Mark was occupied and Dr. Spade was free. Alice took a deep breath, forcing herself to set aside her reluctance to experience any more of his cutting comments.
To her surprise, he thanked her as she set down her precious bundle. He gently unwrapped the towel and went over every inch of the unresponsive animal. After the examination, he straightened and shook his head. “I’m going to clean out this head wound. She has a broken jaw but there do not appear to be other broken bones or external injuries. The eyes and the lack of reflexes suggest to me that her brain is probably swelling.” He ran a gentle hand down the cat’s soft flank. “All we can do is hydrate her, keep her warm, and wait to see what happens.”
“You mean she…could live?” Alice couldn’t believe it.
Dr. Spade shrugged. “I wouldn’t say her chances are good, but I’ve seen cats rebound from seemingly life-ending injuries before. There’s a reason they say cats have nine lives. Let’s not give up on her yet.”
“Thank you.” Alice laid the towel back over the kitty and slipped her hands beneath the floppy body, resolved to pray for the cat’s survival for all she was worth.
“Alice?”
She glanced up. Dr. Spade had both hands flat on the table. He was gazing down at them. “I owe you an apology. I’ve been curt and unkind since I arrived and I’m sorry. I drove straight down here from my father’s funeral, and I’ve been exhausted. In retrospect, going from one emotional setting to another that is also overwhelming in a different way probably wasn’t a good idea. But …I wanted to help.”
“And you have.”
He did not appear to register her words. “It’s not an excuse, but I want you to know I’m not always…I’m not’”
“I understand.” Alice stopped and regarded the man as he swallowed hard, compassion flooding her heart as she regretted her unkind thoughts about him. Grieving people handled their feelings in different ways. “Please accept my condolences. I lost my father not so long ago. I know how difficult it can be.” She hesitated. “I’d be happy to add you to my daily prayer list.”
Dr. Spade’s head came up and he nodded, meeting her eyes for the first time since she had met him. “I would appreciate that. Thank you. And Alice?”
“Yes?”
“Please call me Luther.”
She smiled again. “Of course.”
“I noticed that you lead a Bible study group.”
“Yes. Would you like to join us?”
He looked surprised. “Ah, no thank you. Not really my thing. But you might want to mention this cat to your group. She’s going to need all the help she can get.”
Alice nodded. “I’ve got that covered already.” As she settled the little cat in a kennel with a heated rice bag beneath it, she reflected on the vet’s change of attitude. Thank You, Lord, for using me to help Dr. Spade through a difficult time. Help me always to be sensitive and kind in the face of anger and provocation. I can’t see the suffering hidden behind a rough facade, but help me to practice compassion for all. She glanced down at the little life in her hands. And please, Lord, be with this kitty as she fights to live. Pour Your strength into her and heal her damaged body. In Your name I pray. Amen.
Chapter Thirteen
Help!”
Jane came unsteadily down the hall on the second floor, a tower of boxes stacked precariously in her arms.
Louise had just come out of the Sunset Room after placing fresh linens and towels in it for some new guests who would arrive later that day. She hurried forward and relieved her sister of the topmost two boxes. “What’s this?”
“I’m moving all the raffle items from my room over to the Assembly Room,” Jane said, panting a bit. “I’m so sorry I let Aunt Ethel maneuver me into this job.”
“I’m not sorry,” Louise told her. “You’re doing wonderfully. If this succeeds, it’s going to be thanks to you and all the work you’ve put into organizing the craft offerings.”
“I am beginning to have a good feeling about it,” Jane confessed as they entered the kitchen and set down their loads of boxes. “We’ve had a great response from vendors interested in renting booth space. As of this morning, I have the entire Assembly Room filled and a number of booths outside as well.”
“What if we have rain or snow? That could be disastrous,” Louise said.
The sides on the canopy that Aunt Ethel ordered can be lowered if the weather is bad,” Jane explained. “Even if it rains, we should be okay. Snow, though, would be a different story. Of course, snow would be problematic in terms of drawing a crowd even if the whole thing were held inside.” She shrugged. “Well, it won’t do me any good to worry about something I have no control over. I’ll continue to work on the things I can do to make this a success.” She glanced at her watch. “Speaking of which, I have a meeting with Sylvia in forty-five minutes. I’d better get the car packed and get going.”
After Jane left the kitchen, Louise sat down at the piano. She reached for the sheet music in the folder she had created for the Santa Lucia songs.
A moment later, Jane popped her head into the parlor. “Louise, I completely forgot. That honeymooning couple should be arriving sometime after two. I doubt I will be back by then. Will you mind registering them and showing them to the Sunset Room?”
“I’d be happy to.” Louise was glad to take some pressure off her sister.
She ran through several sets of warm-up exercises so familiar that she did not even have to think about them. When she thought she was sufficiently prepared, she placed the first piece of music on the piano and opened it. She set her metronome to a stately pace and began to play. While she did not feel that she needed to have the pieces memorized, she wanted to have them firmly under her fingers so that she would be able to direct the children while she played. Muscle memory was a concept she introduced to her students at a young age in hopes that they would understand why it was so important to practice on a regular basis. The more one repeated an exercise or piece of music, the easier it became to flow from one section of music into the next.
The afternoon passed quickly. The young honeymooners, the Fergusons, arrived on time, and Louise showed them to their room. It was pleasant and satisfying to chat with the young couple. She shared the home’s history and told them about growing up i
n the huge old Victorian home. She also shared the story of how she and her sisters had worked to make their vision of a bed-and-breakfast a reality. After getting them settled, she returned to her work.
She played for nearly two hours, keeping at it until she was satisfied that she had given her fingers plenty of exercise and her brain plenty of exposure to the music.
Before Alice went to work with Gina in the dog room, she stopped in the cat room. The room where they were keeping the very sick and injured cats was not much more than a large closet, but they didn’t want to distress ailing felines by housing them with dogs who might bark.
It was Sunday, the morning of the third day since the little cat with the horrid head wound had been brought in. The first day she had battled for her life, lying unconscious, doing little more than taking shallow breaths. But yesterday morning, her eyes opened when someone spoke to her. She didn’t eat, but toward nightfall, she lifted her head several times.
This morning, Alice could hardly believe her eyes. The little cat was on her feet. She was leaning drunkenly against the bars of the cage, but she was standing, an intravenous line trailing from one of her front legs.
“Isn’t that terrific?” Gina said from the next kennel over, where she was washing down the steel walls with disinfectant. “She’s trying. She even took a few sips of water this morning, although mostly she just dunked her face in the bowl. At noon, I’m going to try giving her a syringe of wet food.”
“I can’t believe it.” Alice clapped three times in delight as the cat turned its head and stared at her with wide eyes. “Dr. Spade was right about her. I would never have believed this if I hadn’t seen it.”
“Don’t get too excited,” Gina cautioned. “I haven’t seen her try to take a step yet. All manner of brain damage could be a problem. And I hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty sure she’s blind.”
Alice was stricken. “Are you sure?”
Gina nodded. She walked over to the cage. The cat turned its head and appeared to look at her, but when Gina waved a hand right in front of the bars and then poked a finger through, coming inches from its eyes, the cat never flinched or blinked.
“Oh no,” Alice said in distress.
“Hey, there are worse things,” Gina said. “I’ve seen a lot of blind cats and dogs, and honestly, they learn to get around extremely well. Besides, don’t give up yet. She could regain some or even all of her vision.”
Alice looked in at the cat. “I will never give up on you,” she informed it, “and I will keep on praying because something sure seems to be working. Now I’d better get to work.”
In the CCU, the shepherd stood when it saw her and poked its long muzzle as far through the bars of its kennel as possible. There was an empty bowl near the cage door. Alice couldn’t help smiling as she saw it. She knelt and removed the bowl, taking a moment to fondle the shepherd’s ears, happiness rushing through her.
The shepherd was doing better, eating by itself consistently, although it still looked dreadfully thin. Dr. Spade had told her the dog was one of the worst starvation cases he had ever seen.
Mark and Luther both were in the CCU, examining various dogs. When the little cocker spaniel with the tumor saw Alice, she began to do a delirious dance of joy, pawing at the bars. The tumor did not appear to cause her any pain.
The little dog had gotten more tolerant of other handlers, but it still was devoted to Alice and nearly went wild if she came in without greeting it.
“Gee, do you think she wants to go out?” Luther said. He was smiling, a change to which Alice still wasn’t accustomed. To her surprise, his name tag today read “Luther.”
She tapped it with one finger. “This is a nice change.”
He looked sheepish. “I don’t know why I didn’t catch on to that earlier.” He glanced at the cocker spaniel. “We would have had someone take her out, but we know she has a marked preference for you.”
Mark chuckled. “Translation: None of us is eager to get a finger bitten off.”
“Thanks for waiting, whatever your motives,” Alice said, making both men grin. She got a lead and knelt before the cage. When the little dog came barreling out, she wriggled all over Alice’s lap and licked her face.
“What’s going to happen to her?” she asked the vets.
Luther’s mouth compressed. “I don’t know. None of the rescue groups will take her because of the medical costs and her probably limited life span.”
Alice sighed. “She’s been here a long time. I was beginning to wonder.”
The vet nodded. “I don’t suppose you want a sick dog that may not live long, do you?”
Alice grimaced. “My sisters would clobber me if I came home with a dog. And my cat might not be too thrilled either.”
“Grace Chapel Inn is a busy place,” Mark said. “It’s probably not the best environment for this dog, anyway. She’s not exceptionally friendly to most people, and you wouldn’t want a guest to get bitten.”
Alice’s steps were heavy as they began their walk. Surely, someone had room in his or her heart for the little black-and-white dog.
Joe caught up with her as she and her cocker spaniel friend were heading back to the CCU after their walk.
“Alice? I need your input.”
“My input?”
“Yes, in case there’s anything I missed.” He glanced down at his clipboard, which made Alice chuckle. Just yesterday, Royce and Miranda had hidden it as a practical joke. Joe was frantic until they confessed and retrieved it. “You’re laughing at me again, running around with my notes. But these notes are what have kept this camp from becoming one huge, disorganized mess, you know.”
“I do know and I appreciate it, Joe. We all do.” She patted his arm. “Now, on what topic do you need my infinite wisdom?”
Joe grinned. “I wrote a set of protocols for volunteers to review when each helper arrives. It includes things like taking care of oneself by drinking plenty of water and getting enough rest, and other notes that are more directly related to animal care, particularly precautions when working with dogs. I think perhaps we should add that to the orientation.” He shook his head. “We all expected that eventually someone would get bitten. But if you had told me it would be a Lab, I’d have laughed at the notion.”
“I might have, too, before I got here,” Alice said, “but all the animals are frightened and vulnerable, regardless of breed.” She took the sheet of paper Joe handed her. “I’ll look over this and see if I can think of anything you should add.”
She returned to the CCU and put the cocker back in its kennel. She was standing by the exam table, looking over Joe’s list, when she heard the door open. “Alice?”
It was Mark’s voice. She looked up with a smile. “Hi.”
“What’s that?” He came and looked over her shoulder. “Ah, Joe’s handiwork. I think it’s an excellent idea. I guess no one thought of creating safety regulations sooner because we all were too busy. Hey.” He pointed to number five on the list. “This clearly says, ‘Do not skip meals.’ You haven’t eaten any lunch, have you?”
Alice looked at her watch and was surprised to see that it was past two o’clock. “No. I guess I forgot.”
“You need to practice if you’re going to preach,” Mark said, grinning. He held up a brown bag that she hadn’t noticed. “Two sandwiches. Do you have time to sit down and eat?”
Alice was warmed by his thoughtfulness and pleased that he had noticed her lapse. “I sure do. All our furry friends have been walked, and we’ve given midday meds, so barring any human emergencies, I can take a break.”
She led the way into the room where the medical supplies were kept. The table was filled with all sorts of human and animal medications, but they took seats on one of the couches along the wall, placing the sandwiches in their laps. Mark also had brought along bottles of water, and she gratefully accepted one, knowing how easy it was to lose fluids even when it was not terribly hot. All of them at camp were doing
hard physical labor, and many of them were office workers or people who spent their days in sedentary occupations. It was probably a miracle more of them hadn’t collapsed.
As they unwrapped their sandwiches and began to eat, Alice said, “Do you feel the same? After having had this experience, I mean. Do you feel like the same person you were before you came down here?”
Mark stopped before he took another bite. He cocked his head, considering her question. “No,” he said finally. “This has changed me—and the way in which I view the world—in a fundamental way.”
“I believe that’s true of me as well.” Alice stared at her sandwich without really seeing it. “I will never hear about another natural disaster again without worrying about what happened to all the animals involved. But more than that, I’ve learned things about myself.”
“Such as?”
“I’m a lot more capable than I thought I was. I wasn’t sure I would be much help with animals, although I felt certain I should be doing this. Also, I’ve learned that I can feel heartache and discouragement and all manner of other disappointment without losing my belief that God is at work in the world. I’ve learned that there are more people who care deeply about animals than I’ve ever dreamed of, and that we can make positive strides in animal care and treatment if we work together.”
Mark was smiling. “You sound like you’ve become quite an animal advocate.”
“It’s going to be hard to go home tomorrow.” She set down her sandwich, suddenly not hungry anymore.
“Hey.” Mark settled a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Don’t’”
A fist appeared through the open doorway and knocked on the frame. It belonged to one of the volunteers who had arrived just that morning. “Sorry to interrupt a married moment but Corinne needs you, Alice.”
“Oh, we’re not married,” both Mark and Alice said together.
“Just old friends,” Alice added quickly.
“But very good old friends,” Mark said.
Saints Among Us Page 15
