by B R Snow
“I’m sorry,” I said. “What do you want to do?”
“If he doesn’t head back this way soon, I’m going in after him,” she said, glancing around. “I knew we should have gotten a kayak.”
“Try to relax,” I said. “He seems to be doing just fine.”
Then my phone buzzed, and I checked the number and answered.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, distracted.
“Well, Merry Christmas to you, too, darling.”
“I’m sorry, Mom, but we’re dealing with a bit of a situation here.”
I briefly explained what was happening and then I glanced down the beach and caught a glimpse of her standing on her front porch waving to me.
“I’ll call you right back,” I said, hanging up and giving her a quick wave.
Captain was now slowly making his way back toward shore. We continued to stare out at the water, trying to figure out exactly what was happening and what had caused the dog to swim out into open water. The Newfie continued to powerfully chug his way through the water, and it soon became apparent that he had something in his mouth, as well as something hanging onto his back. Moments later, my mouth dropped when I finally saw the person floating on her back as Captain slowly dragged her through the water, pulling her along by the arm. But I was completely bewildered when I saw the small dog perched precariously on Captain’s back. The Newfie’s focus was unshakeable, and he spotted Josie on the shore and made a beeline for her. As he got closer, Josie and I waded into the water, followed closely by Chloe, and we swam toward the Newfie. When we reached Captain, Josie grabbed the unconscious woman’s arms and gently pulled her toward shore. I lifted the small dog off Captain’s back and held it tight to my chest. It was trembling with fear, and it nestled its head under my shoulder as I waded back to shore.
Chef Claire helped Josie with the woman, and they gently stretched her out on the sand. She was definitely still alive, but her breathing was shallow and labored. I set the small dog down on the sand, and it shook vigorously. Only then did I recognize the breed. The Cavalier King Charles spaniel was still trembling with fear, but slowly finding its footing. Chloe and the Goldens approached and tentatively said hello, and the King Charles, too tired or frightened to play or run away, sat down in the sand and let the other dogs give him the once-over.
I reached for my phone, then shook my head when I realized I’d just taken it for a lengthy swim.
“Chef Claire, can you please call my mom and have her call for an ambulance?”
“You ruin your phone?” Josie said, not glancing up from the unconscious woman she was giving CPR.
“Yeah.”
“Me too, I’m sure,” she said, focused on the woman stretched out on the sand.
I took my first good look at her. She was somewhere in her thirties, wearing a tee-shirt over her swimsuit, and had an irregular tan. Tourist, I decided. Captain approached and stared at her. I reached down to stroke the dog’s head, but he ignored me and continued to focus on the woman, obviously concerned about her well-being. Josie continued administering CPR, and the woman slowly began to regain consciousness. She coughed, turned her head to one side and vomited salt water. Then she closed her eyes again.
“Your mom said the ambulance is on the way,” Chef Claire said. “And she’s bringing towels and water.”
“Thanks,” I said, glancing down the beach and seeing my mother hustling her way across the sand. I had to give her credit. She’s was making a lot better time than I would have despite the load she was carrying. She slowed to a walk when she got close and tossed both Josie and I a towel. Josie gently wiped the woman’s face then accepted a bottle of water from my mother. Josie and my mother helped her sit up in the sand and held the bottle close to her mouth. She took a sip, then greedily sucked on the bottle for more.
“Easy,” Josie said. “Not too much at once.”
“The poor thing,” my mother said, staring at her.
“Do you know her, Mom?”
“No, I don’t think I do,” she said, shaking her head. “Is that a Cavalier King Charles?”
“It is,” I said, picking the spaniel up and wrapping the still trembling dog in one of the towels. “He’s terrified, but I think he’s okay.”
We heard the sound of an ambulance off in the distance that was getting louder by the moment.
“They’ll be here soon,” my mother said, then glanced at the Newfie. “Captain saw them and just swam out and rescued them?”
“Yes, he certainly did,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief.
“How on earth did he know how to do that?” my mother said, frowning.
“Instinct, I imagine,” I said, shrugging. “It was pretty amazing.”
Captain continued to watch the woman closely. She was very groggy and drifting in and out of consciousness. The dog nuzzled the side of her neck, and she opened her eyes.
“Is that my hero?” the woman said before drifting off again.
Captain focused on the dog I was holding. I lowered the dog and Captain sniffed then nuzzled the King Charles. The small dog wiggled in my arms, and I gently set him down on the sand. He seemed to prance after he found his footing, trotted about ten feet across the sand, then tripped over a piece of driftwood and fell flat on his face in the soft sand.
“I think he might be a bit of a klutz,” my mother said, bending down to help the dog onto his feet.
“He’s probably just a bit disoriented,” I said.
The King Charles shook the sand off, then trotted off in the other direction. Seconds later, the dog had managed to get one of his front paws stuck in a conch shell and was hopping on three legs as he tried to free himself. My mother bent down, gently removed the shell from the dog’s paw, and petted the King Charles. The dog tolerated the attention for a moment, then trotted off again and managed to trip over the same piece of driftwood as before.
“Poor little guy. We better get him up to the house before he hurts himself,” my mother said, doing her best not to laugh. “Do you need me to stay until the ambulance arrives?”
“No, I think we’re good, Mom. If you can take care of the dog, that would be great. He’s probably dehydrated so get some water in him. I’d wait a bit before you give him anything to eat, but see how he responds and play it by ear.”
“Got it. I’ll be waiting at the house,” she said, scooping up the dog and wrapping it in the towel. “Take all the time you need.”
I watched her head down the beach back toward her house then focused on the woman in the sand who continued to drift in and out of consciousness. Josie continued to slowly give her water. All four dogs watched the action closely. Two paramedics appeared at the edge of the sand carrying a stretcher and what appeared to be a portable oxygen tank. They broke into a run and headed straight for us.
“Okay, hang in there,” Josie said to the woman. “Help is here, and they’re going to get you to the hospital.”
“Dr-drink,” the woman said.
Josie gave her another sip, then sat back in the sand as the paramedics approached.
“O,” the woman whispered.
“O?” Josie said, frowning. “What are you trying to say?”
“O,” the woman said, blinking rapidly before her eyes closed and stayed shut. “O-wen.”
“Owen?” Josie said, glancing up at me. “Who the heck is Owen?”
Chapter 3
We stayed with the unknown woman until the paramedics had finished their work. They wrapped her in a blanket, covered her mouth and nose with an oxygen mask then carried her across the sand, strapped to a stretcher. We waited until we heard the sound of the ambulance driving away then walked down the beach to my mother’s house. We put the dogs in the garage and headed inside through a door that led directly into the kitchen. My mother was on the floor playing with the freshly-bathed King Charles. When we entered, my mother climbed to her feet and gave each of us a hug.
“Merry Christmas, darling,” she said, squeezing the
air out of me.
“Merry Christmas, Mom,” I said, grimacing. “How’s the little guy doing?”
“Apart from him constantly bumping into everything in sight, I think he’s fine. I gave him a bath, which he loved, then he had a little snack. He’s a cute little bugger.”
“He is indeed,” I said, nodding as I studied the chestnut and white dog with big, round, dark brown eyes that made me melt. He cocked his head at me and wagged his tail. “No collar or tag on him. I guess we’ll need to hang onto him until his owner gets out of the hospital. Or maybe she has family down here who could take him.”
Josie sat down on the floor and patted the tile with her palms. The King Charles padded across the floor toward her, then bumped into one of the legs on the kitchen table. Looking more embarrassed than hurt, the dog shook his head then continued across the floor ending up in Josie’s arms.
“Klutzy is one thing, but that’s not normal,” I said, sitting down on the floor next to Josie.
“No, it’s not,” Josie said, holding the dog with both hands out in front of her. “His left pupil is almost fully dilated. In this light, I’d expect both of them to be pretty small.”
“Anisocoria?” I said, frowning. “Is that the right term?”
“Well done, Snoopmeister,” Josie said, laughing. “Somebody’s finally been doing her homework.”
“I’ve been working my way through the book alphabetically,” I said, shrugging.
“What is it?” my mother said, sliding across the tile to get a closer look at the King Charles.
“One of his pupils is markedly larger than the other,” Josie said, gently brushing the dog’s fur away from his eyes and pointing. “See it?”
“Yes,” my mother said, closely studying the dog’s eyes. “What causes it?”
“Sometimes it’s just there from birth and not a problem. But it can also indicate a lot of things,” Josie said, setting the dog down. “Nerve disease, glaucoma, cancer. This guy can’t be more than a couple of years old, so I doubt if it’s anything you’d expect to see in an older dog. Given where we found him, I’m going to guess it was caused by some sort of trauma that happened to him while he was in that kayak.”
“But anisocoria wouldn’t necessarily be the cause of his clumsiness, right? That wouldn’t cause him to bump into tables.”
“You are on fire today,” Josie said. “Well done. You’re right, it wouldn’t necessarily cause him to do that.”
“Thanks,” I said, beaming.
Truth be told, I have been doing a little late-night reading in some of Josie’s veterinary textbooks. I have been learning a few things, but primarily they serve as a cure for insomnia.
“Okay, Dr. Doolittle,” she said. “You want to continue with the diagnosis?”
“Well,” I said, gently stroking the dog’s head. “If it was brought on by trauma, he might have a concussion. And if the little guy got hit in the head, I’d also be willing to guess that he might have a detached retina. That could explain why he’s having a hard time navigating.”
“I’m impressed,” Josie said, nodding. Then she caught the look I was giving her. “I’m not joking. Really. That’s exactly what I’m thinking.”
“Wow. How about that?” I said, grinning. “So, what do we do?”
“Well, I’m not qualified to work on eyes,” Josie said. “At least when it comes to doing eye surgery.”
“What are you talking about?” I said, frowning. “I’ve watched you perform brain surgery.”
“Yeah, but eyes are different,” she said, shaking her head. “They’re tricky. And I never focused on them in school. It’s very specialized work.”
“And brain surgery is like cutting a sandwich?” I said.
“You know what I mean,” she said, gently punching me on the shoulder.
“You think he might need surgery?” my mother said.
“It’s possible,” Josie said. “Do you know if there’s a vet ophthalmologist on Grand Cayman?”
“I’m not sure,” she said, reaching for her phone. “But if there is, Dr. Wallace will know.”
“Who’s he?” I said.
“Oh, he’s a wonderful man. He’s been a vet down here forever,” she said, typing a search term into her phone and waiting for the results to return. She scrolled down then nodded. “What do you know? Dr. Wallace is certified in ophthalmology.”
“That’s good news,” Josie said, climbing to her feet. “I don’t think we need to bother him on Christmas Day. The little guy seems okay, but we should keep a close eye on him and not let him play with the bruisers. Even a love tap from Captain could do some more damage if he’s concussed.”
“We can put him in my bedroom,” my mother said as she scooped the dog up in her arms.
“We’ll try to get hold of this Dr. Wallace tomorrow,” Josie said.
“There’s no need to do that, dear,” my mother said, gently stroking the King Charles’ head. “You’ll meet him this afternoon.”
“He’s coming to your barbecue?” I said, also stroking the dog’s head.
“Darling, everybody comes to my Christmas barbecue,” she said as she headed out of the kitchen carrying the dog. Then she stopped and turned around. “Oh, why don’t the two of you grab a change of clothes from the closet and put yours in the dryer. And after you sweep up all the sand on my kitchen floor, maybe take another shower. You both look like a couple of drowned rats. After you’re presentable, we’ll open presents.”
She shook her head at us and headed off down the hall.
“There’s the mother I know,” I said, shaking my head. “I was starting to worry.”
“She’s really taking this dog-lover thing seriously,” Josie said. “Did you see the way she was looking at the King Charles?”
“Yeah, I was starting to feel bad about what I said this morning,” I said. “And then she made that crack about looking like a drowned rat.”
“So?”
“So, now I think I definitely want to push her in the pool,” I said, laughing.
We changed clothes, tossed our wet ones in the dryer, then headed to the garage where Chef Claire was already brushing Al and Dente. She glanced up when we entered and shook her head in disbelief.
“Feel like building a sandcastle?” she said, nodding at the pile near her feet.
I knelt down to pet Chloe who was giving me a head-cocked stare. She was almost dry and had an expectant look on her face.
“What?” I said to her.
Chloe headed for the shelves that ran along one side of the garage and hopped up on her back legs. She grabbed a dog brush in her mouth, trotted back to me, and dropped it at my feet. Then she sat down and waited for me to pick it up. I surrendered and started to gently brush her.
“It’s their world,” Josie said, laughing. “We only live in it.” She stretched out on the floor and pulled Captain close. She gave him a long hug, he responded by climbing on top of her and pinning her shoulders to the garage floor. She struggled to get out from under him, then sat up. Captain draped himself across her lap, and she vigorously rubbed his head.
“How did you know what to do?” Josie said to the Newfie. The dog thumped his tail and snorted contentedly. “Where did that come from?”
“It was pretty amazing,” Chef Claire said, tossing the dog brush aside. Al and Dente nuzzled each other briefly then stretched out on the floor. “Where do those instincts come from?”
“Beats me,” Josie said, giving Captain a gentle thump on the back. “He saved both their lives. You think we should go visit her in the hospital?”
“Good idea,” I said, nodding. “Maybe we can fit it in tomorrow. But I have no idea when.”
Tomorrow was going to be packed with activity. Josie and I had to visit the new animal clinic we were opening to do a final walkthrough before we opened the doors on New Year’s Day. And in the afternoon, we were meeting Chef Claire at our new restaurant that was about to open. Based on what we’d been told,
everything was ready to go at both places, but until we had a chance to confirm it with our own eyes, I remained cautiously optimistic. Adding the task of getting the King Charles to the vet, locating someone responsible for the spaniel, not to mention checking in on the woman Captain had pulled out of the water, made for a very full day. But as I was quick to remind myself on a regular basis, other people would kill to have the same list of things to worry about as I did.
Like the King Charles and a variety of other animals walking around with nowhere to go, I could be surrounded by strangers without the companionship of friends or family. Especially on Christmas Day.
Or like the woman Captain had saved from certain death, I could be flat on my back in the hospital, alone and scared, wondering where I was and how I’d gotten there.
I glanced over at Captain, a very special creature who had ventured out into dangerous ocean waters to rescue a complete stranger and her dog without giving a thought to his own well-being. Now, instead of prancing around and narcissistically calling attention to himself for a job well done, he was sound asleep in Josie’s lap, snoring softly without a care in the world.
I, along with everyone else, could learn a lot from that dog.
Chapter 4
Given that the morning had gotten away from us, we jointly decided to wait to open presents until later that evening after the barbecue had ended. As soon as that decision was made, the three of us pitched in to help my mother and Henry, the man who maintained the property and lived in the guesthouse, get ready for the party. My mother put us in charge of decorating the lawn and pool area, most of which consisted of stringing lights, streamers, and two dozen Chinese lanterns she wanted surrounding the sitting area on the lawn.
By the time we had finished, the smells coming from the grill and smoker were torturing us, and the sun was high and beating down on us. We opted for a dog-free swim in the pool, then headed inside to shower and get dressed. By the time we made it back outside, several guests had already arrived and were lounging on the lawn, sipping cocktails. The setting was casual, as most social events in the islands were, and it would have been easy to mistake the guests as a collection of regular folks enjoying a relaxing afternoon with some friends. But as I looked around the lawn, I recognized several people I knew were heavy hitters with a lot of financial and political clout.
