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I offer a sympathetic smile. “Take all the time you need.” I duck into the back room, pushing the door closed firmly. It doesn’t muffle the sobs that erupt behind the door.
Eddie wasn’t my dog, but even I feel like crying. He was ten—too young. If not for the countless lumps throughout his body and the oozing sore on his face, he would’ve seemed fine. His tail was still wagging right to the very end when the sedative kicked in.
He’s the third pet I’ve had to put down this week—an unusually high number for me. I used to keep count of the animals I euthanized, convincing myself it’s a number I should know. Now I only keep a tally of the animals I’ve saved.
Unfortunately, this little guy was not one of them.
I let my body sag against the wall, willing this day—this week—to be over.
The door to the clinic lobby swings open, and Cory barrels through.
“She just needs a few more minutes with him—”
“I’m sorry, because I know you need some time to yourself after that, but you should come out here.” Cory points behind her. “Like, now.”
This is not standard Cory behavior.
Peeling myself off the wall, I follow her out.
Tyler is standing in my lobby.
I haven’t seen or heard from him in a week, but that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that he’s in my lobby, in his park ranger uniform, his arms flexing beneath the weight of a whimpering Bernese mountain dog. Blood drips from its front leg at a steady rate, despite the cloth tied around it, splattering on the lobby floor.
A young woman stands behind Tyler, streaks of mascara down her cheeks. Through the front window, a silver Mini pulls up next to Tyler’s ranger vehicle, and another young woman jumps out, in a frantic rush to collect her purse and phone.
“Rachel, this is the veterinarian I told you about. Her name is Marie,” he says, his voice calm, as I’m sure he’s been trained to be for these situations.
I offer a quick, polite smile in response. “What happened?”
“Beau stepped in a trap while they were hiking. I got him out of it, but I thought it best we come here.”
The fact that a park ranger hauled a hundred-pound dog and its owner straight to a vet tells me all I need to know about its seriousness. I’ve seen enough to know those traps can destroy an animal’s leg. “Can he walk?”
“No.”
And there’s no way this tiny brunette, who likely matches her dog in weight, would be able to carry him. “Okay.” My adrenaline kicks in. “Let’s examine his leg first to see how bad it is—”
“Is he gonna live?” Rachel asks, her voice borderline hysterical.
The other woman—her friend, I presume—blows through the door in a panic. They can’t be more than twenty, practically still kids. This is traumatizing for them.
I offer her what I hope is a reassuring smile. “I’ve seen my fair share of dogs caught in traps, and a lot of them live. Especially when it’s this type of trap.” Thank God it wasn’t a conibear. “I’ll have more information for you after I’ve examined him.”
“The surgical room is already sterilized and prepped,” Cory offers.
“Right.” For a surgery on another patient. “I need you to bump the rest of my appointments. Tell them there was an emergency, and I have to reschedule.” This is going to take hours to fix. Turning to Tyler, I point toward the rear door. “Can you carry him there for me?”
“I’ll show you the way.” Cory leads him back.
Well, this day has taken a turn, and I’m not sure if it’s for the better or worse yet. “I’ll be out with an update as soon as I can.”
The brunette’s head bobs, tears streaming freely again. “Okay. Thank you, Doctor. Marie.” She frowns, as if she’s not sure what to call me. I get that a lot. “Whatever you have to do to save him, please do it.”
My guess is this girl has no idea what “whatever you have to do” might cost. “Do you have pet insurance?”
She shakes her head. “No, but I’ll find the money.”
Not that it matters if she doesn’t, I accept with a resigned sigh. I’ll do whatever I have to, regardless.
Maybe Liz is right. Maybe I am going to run this clinic into the ground.
* * *
Rachel and her friend are huddled next to each other, both typing furiously on their phones, when I step out, Tyler trailing behind me.
Her head snaps up right away. “How is he?”
I settle in the empty chair next to her. “I’ve stopped the bleeding, and Beau is going to be fine, but I can’t save his leg.”
“What does that mean, you can’t save it?” She stumbles over her words. “You want to cut off his leg?”
“I don’t want to amputate. I need to. The trap crushed his bones, and his tissue and nerves are torn up beyond repair. He was fighting to get out of it, wasn’t he?”
