“Okay, I’m going to lock up and go,” the voice said.
“See you tomorrow,” the doctor acknowledged her. As the dog continued to fall asleep she began to probe into the wound more thoroughly. “Could you hand me those swabs?” she asked Allyssa, pointing to the tray. “Maybe bring the tray closer?” She quickly put on a blue gown and rubber gloves as she handed the same to Allyssa.
“You want me to help? I don’t know anything about…” she began.
“You are only going to hand me stuff, unless you aren’t up to it?” she asked in a kindly voice, using the swabs to clear away gravel and debris and occasionally using a long-nosed tweezer to probe deeper.
Allyssa was willing to do anything to help, she felt compelled to. It was her fault the dog was in this pain and she would do anything to help the poor thing. She helped the doctor put the limp dog on a cart and take it in for x-rays, maneuvering the body and holding it in place while the doctor put a lead-lined apron around her. Once the x-rays were up on a computer she tsked under her breath and began to work on the dog in earnest.
On another table, the doctor opened the wound farther and began to align the bones. She pulled something that looked like a pin from a wrapper and drilled through the bone of the dog, affixing a small metal panel to each side of the bone with the pin. She did this on both sides. She worked quickly and efficiently as she checked on the dog to be sure it was still asleep and not in pain.
Allyssa was amazed the woman was letting her help, and while she wasn’t doing much at all, she was fascinated. Her courses in animal husbandry at the college held the same fascination for her. She hadn’t dropped them as her father insisted and hoped she wouldn’t have the expected confrontation with him until midterm. She watched as the doctor put in neat and even stitches, pulling the needle through the flesh as though it were nothing. She’d shaved the fur off and even allowed Allyssa to do a little as she prepared for her surgery. Sprinkling in a generous helping of some wash that cleaned out the bloody wound and brought even more grit and dirt from the accident out, she then fluttered powder over it all to stop the bleeding and clean it with the antibiotics. Finally, she wrapped it all, from the shoulder to the first bend in the paw.
“That’s amazing,” Allyssa commented under her breath as she admired the veterinarian’s work. They hadn’t spoken much except for the doctor to ask her for something that she couldn’t reach on the tray, otherwise she was very busy working on the dog’s shoulder and leg.
The dog was now lying comfortably in a caged pen. There was a little water in the dish, but no food. It was still very limp, but breathing steadily. “He should do well. He’s young and healthy for a shepherd. Let’s just see if he has a chip, shall we?” she replied as she took a wand and ran it over the scruff of his neck.
“He’s a shepherd?” Allyssa asked, thinking it had been some mixed breed.
“Well, I’d say it isn’t a German Shepherd, maybe an Anatolian or even a Malinois, but definitely some type of shepherd breed. He’s still pretty young, but he’s got the coloring… Yep, there’s a chip,” she exclaimed as the sensor picked up what she was looking for. She sent the data to their computer so she could call the owners.
“How long until he wakes up?” Allyssa asked as she admired the vet and her handiwork.
“Let’s give him a good half hour,” the woman answered as she checked his eyelid and reflex reaction. Closing the cage door on the overgrown pup she smiled for a moment and then began to clean up after her operation. She was pleased when the younger woman helped so eagerly.
“Have you been a vet long?” Allyssa finally ventured to ask, the silence becoming uncomfortable as the older woman put away the various things she had used and then put the tools into a sterilizer. It hummed once she closed the top and sealed them inside.
The woman had to think for a moment and nodded. “Five years now,” she answered in her pleasant voice, looking up at Allyssa. She studied the woman for a moment and then asked a question of her own, “Don’t I know you?”
Allyssa looked at the woman closer. She’d been so focused on the dog she hadn’t really examined the doctor. She wasn’t quite as tall as Allyssa, but had short brown hair, a strong jawline, beautiful brown eyes, impeccable eyebrows, and it looked like she was wearing makeup, but she could be one of those lucky women who were just born like that. “You do look familiar, but I can’t place…” she mused aloud as she tried to remember.
“Well, now that this is cleaned up I’ll have to get your information so the owners can contact you.”
“Oh gawd, they are going to want to sue me,” she lamented at the reminder that she had hit their dog.
“Not likely,” the older woman countered. “It’s more likely they will be grateful you saved their dog that got loose and was running around. He’s lucky you brought him in so quickly or the leg might have had to be amputated.”
Allyssa nodded, swallowing as she remembered and suddenly envisioning the poor dog with its leg gone.
“You are going to want to soak this in cold water,” she continued, holding out the bloody jacket.
“I bet it’s ruined,” she answered and then shrugged. It wasn’t like she didn’t have others.
The older woman frowned slightly, wondering at her answer as she led her to the front of the clinic to fill out a form.
“I’ll contact the owners and let them know what we did for their pup. I’m sure they’ll be grateful.”
“Let me know what happens?”
“Well, they are going to want that pup back. He’s very well cared for from what I can see. He appears very healthy.”
Suddenly Allyssa had a thought, “What if they don’t want to pay for the surgery that you did? Can you bill me?”
The woman nodded thoughtfully as she took the form Allyssa had filled out. “Allyssa,” she practically whispered the name aloud. Frowning, she wished she could remember how she knew the woman.
“Thank you, Doctor Robinson,” she said, reading the name on the lapel and then looking at the name of the clinic on everything.
“Oh, I’m not Doctor Robinson,” the other woman objected. “What made you think…” she started to ask and then looked down at the doctor’s coat she had pulled on. She laughed at herself, showing even, white teeth. She shook her head and corrected the other woman. “I’m just one of his hirelings. I’m Doctor Herriot, not to be confused with the one in England who writes books,” she laughed again. “I’m Fiona, Fey to my friends,” she held out her hand to be shaken.
Allyssa held out her own hand, noticing that the doctors was firm and soft. She smiled at the reference to Doctor Herriot…she’d read all his books. “You don’t sound like you are from Yorkshire in the least,” she teased charmingly to show she caught the reference.
Fiona laughed with her. Those books had set her on the path to becoming a veterinarian at a very young age.
“I should be going,” Allyssa continued, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was a retro clock with the eyes of a cat going back and forth along with its tail; the body had the actual time. She knew no one knew where she was, but her mother would be alarmed if she had been expected home. She’d have to get back to the dorms just in case her mother had checked on her for any reason.
“Yes, it is late. I’ll make sure I call you and give you an update,” the doctor promised.
“I hope he’s going to be okay,” she fretted, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.
Dr. Herriot watched distractedly as the young woman worried. “He’s young, he’s healthy, and he should do just fine.”
“Well, then the owners will be upset…” she continued to worry.
“I’m sure they will be grateful,” she assured her again as she walked the younger woman out and locked the door of the clinic behind her.
* * * * *
The owners of the Anatolian Shepherd pup were not grateful after Dr. Herriot tracked them down from the chip data. In fact, they wanted the pup to be
destroyed and certainly didn’t want to pay for the expensive surgery that had not only saved its life, but its ability to walk. The pup was too much for them to handle and they had suffered in silence since it was a purebred and had cost them a lot to obtain. Now, just when it needed training and guidance they wanted to dispose of it. The novelty of the puppy had worn off.
Fiona talked them into coming in and signing over their rights to the clinic. She looked them over as they eagerly assigned their responsibility for the dog to the clinic and left, probably worried they would have to pay for services they hadn’t agreed to. Fiona sighed. The other owners of the clinic weren’t going to like that she had given her services away for free, much less the medicines she had used. As promised, she dutifully called Allyssa, waiting amused as someone got her on the phone at the dorm.
“Hello?” her answer was guarded and unsure.
“Hi, Allyssa, this is Fey,” she began, but it was soon obvious the student had no idea who she was, so she clarified. “Doctor Herriot, from the clinic? You know, the Anatolian Shepherd?”
“Oh, yes. How is he today?” she asked, genuinely relieved to hear from the vet. She had thought the call would be from her mother asking how the final meeting with the sorority had gone. She wasn’t looking forward to telling her that she hadn’t gotten in because she hadn’t bothered to attend. She had forgotten all about the sorority with the drama of hitting the dog.
“He’s doing much better today. The anesthesia has worn off completely and he is up and eating,” she informed her, wondering at the abrupt change in tone of the blonde. Maybe she was as flaky as she remembered other college girls, but after watching her patiently help her operate on the dog the other night, maybe not.
“May I come visit him?” she asked eagerly.
Surprised, Fey nodded and then answered, “Yes, of course you can.”
“Did you find his owners? What did they say?”
“Well, they wanted to have him put down,” she began, but when she could hear Allyssa about to interrupt she added, “but I had them sign over their rights to the clinic, so they wouldn’t be responsible for him anymore.”
“Oh no,” she interjected, concerned. “Does that mean you won’t get paid for your work?”
“Well...” she began, but the girl interrupted again.
“I’ll be down with a payment. It’s my responsibility. I hit him.”
“Well, it isn’t really….”
“I want to,” she assured the doctor. “It’s the least I can do.”
“Well, of course,” she answered, wondering at the young woman’s enthusiasm.
“I have class, but I’ll come down right afterward,” she informed the doctor.
“Okay, we’ll be here,” she smiled, wanting to laugh at her.
“See you then,” she said before she hung up the phone.
Fiona stared at the receiver a moment, wondering if she had been as enthusiastic at that young woman’s age. She had to stop thinking of her as a girl. She was a woman, albeit a young woman. And she had been responsible enough to not only bring the dog in after she hit it with her car, but to stay by its side during the operation. Few, if any would have done that. Most would have driven away. She smiled. It was nice to meet a responsible, young… It was then she remembered where she had met the woman before. She was the girl from the recreation center where she had taken her niece and nephew. She had admired her there as well. She had seemed competent and Fey had to admit, she had a nice figure. She’d noticed her more that day than when she brought the dog in.
Chapter Five
Allyssa stopped at the bank to withdraw the money she had made from the sale of her Mustang. As she drove back to the clinic, she worried they might put the dog down if no one paid for the surgery. She knew her parents wouldn’t be pleased that she had used the money on a dog, but they would be even less pleased when they saw the damage to the Volvo. She hadn’t told them about it and didn’t intend to until she went home the next weekend.
She pulled up at the clinic, noticing two trucks with the name of the clinic on their sides. She hadn’t seen them there the other night, but they were now prominent in the last two parking spots. Both were modified pickup trucks with big boxes on both sides of the beds and they reminded her of something she saw the paramedics use, right down to the large plus sign on the sides of the vehicles. Parking and locking her own damaged vehicle, she went inside and had to wait until a lady with four cats in carriers was taken care of.
“Hello, my name is Allyssa Webster. I’m here to pay for the dog I brought in the other night,” she lowered her voice so the others sitting in the waiting room wouldn’t hear her, “the one I hit and Dr. Herriot operated on?”
The girl behind the desk looked at her blankly for a moment as what Allyssa had just told her sunk in. “Oh, the shepherd?” she asked. “Dr. Herriot is out on a call, but we are expecting her back shortly if you’d care to wait?”
“I’d like to pay for the dog’s vet bill if I could?”
The girl took on a crafty look as she pulled something up on her computer screen that Allyssa couldn’t see. “How much did you want to pay today?” she asked officiously.
Not having any idea about the cost of operating on a dog, Allyssa asked, “Is two thousand enough?”
“That would be fine,” the girl replied.
Allyssa took the cash out of her pocket, the bank bands still on the wrapped one hundred-dollar bills and handed them to the girl who wrote out a receipt for her after counting the money.
“I’ll let Dr. Herriot know you are here when she gets in,” she told Allyssa in a kinder, less officious voice.
Allyssa sat for a long time until she saw the brunette come into the clinic, sitting up straighter to be noticed. Dr. Herriot stopped at the desk for a moment, handed the girl some paperwork, and then quickly went back into the clinic. Allyssa sat back, dejected for a moment as she hadn’t been noticed and it was obvious the girl hadn’t told the doctor she was waiting.
* * * * *
Fiona had had a rough day. She was called out first thing in the morning for a home call to put a dog down when the two elderly owners couldn’t carry the large, old dog in. She’d had to carry it out to her truck too and put it in the back to dispose of it for them. She hated calls like that, but it was part of the business of being a veterinarian. Still, the crying clients made her feel bad when she had to give them a bill, even if it wasn’t their intention. Sympathizing with them, knowing it was time for the old dog who could barely walk anymore, that it was for the best, none of that helped the reality of having to put him to sleep. He had been a big dog of indeterminate breed. He was fifteen, grizzled, and apparently happy. He was just in so much arthritic pain that he could barely rise to greet her. The owners didn’t want him to suffer anymore. It was more humane to put him down in his home with his loved ones petting him and assuring him that he was a ‘good dog.’ Still, Fiona would have been less of a human being if things like this didn’t affect her in some way. As she took the body and wrapped it in a bag in the back of her truck, she had assured the owners they had done the right thing before she left.
Her second call was to an owner who had bred a dog too young and the bitch was having difficulty whelping. She was just too small for the size of the pups that were coming out of her. If they had brought her into the clinic Fiona would have performed a cesarean and the pups would have come out healthy and unscathed. Since it was too late for that she eased them out with plenty of lube and patience, the bitch screaming with each delivery. It had been unnerving and Fiona had been there for hours, worrying about the dog body in the back of her truck. Finally, she palpated the bitch’s abdomen and the final sac was delivered. The bitch had stopped screaming and was being a good mother to the four huge pups she had delivered.
“I wouldn’t breed her again for at least two years, if at all, and not to so large a dog,” she advised, but could tell the owners were all glassy-eyed at the idea of puppie
s. She hated owners like this who bred to try to make money off their breed. In this case it was a corgi and the bitch was simply too small. If they had waited six months to a year she would have been in better shape. “And next time, bring her to the clinic when she first starts,” she tried to advise, hoping they would have more sense next time and sure they wouldn’t.
Handing in her time slips and write-ups to the secretary, she leaned over to ask if the tech could go fetch the body bag from the back of her truck while she washed up. Not waiting for an argument or discussion, she quickly hurried into the back.
“Hey, how was your call for that whelping bitch?” one of the other doctors asked as she passed him.
“Four live pups and one dead. If they had just waited,” she lamented.
“Well, at least you got the four. I saw that bitch once and as I remember she was quite small.”
Fiona nodded, a bit angry at the owner’s neglect over profit. “If they’d only brought her in.”
“Well, we can only do so much,” he agreed.
It was then that Fiona realized she had seen something in the waiting room. She quickly washed up as she tried to remember what she had glimpsed in the waiting room as she came in. She’d given the room a cursory glance, but had been so involved in her own paperwork that she hadn’t really looked. Still…something was niggling at her and she headed back to the front desk after she had dried her hands and arms. Looking through the front office, she saw Allyssa sitting there waiting a bit impatiently. Her leg was bobbing and it appeared she had been waiting a long time.
“Did you need something, Fey?” the receptionist asked familiarly.
“I’ve told you when patients are around to call me Doctor Herriot,” she warned in a low voice.
“Well, none of them,” she gestured at the people in the waiting room, “can hear us.”
Fiona struggled to keep from getting angry. They had gone over this ground many times and the girl simply didn’t get it. The respect started with her and if she didn’t talk to the doctors respectfully neither would the owners of their patients. “Why is Allyssa Webster still waiting?”
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