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NOLA KNOX
Wednesday, June 17, 2020
Nola woke up and padded into the bathroom, bleary-eyed. She pulled the box from its plastic bag and squinted at the directions. She had chosen the shade that most closely matched Eve’s hair color—Sedona Sunset. It only took thirty minutes or so for her to transform from a blonde to redhead. It was really quite remarkable, she thought after she dried and straightened her hair. Nola and Eve could never have been mistaken for twins by any means, but the essence was there, Nola thought as she stared into the mirror. Close enough for people to do a double take. That’s all she wanted.
Nola dressed and ate breakfast then glanced down at the mewling cat in the kennel. She rummaged through the canned goods until she found a can of tuna. The cat hissed and clawed at her when she opened the carrier to slide in the can and fresh water. She was hoping to deal with the cat today but had to head to the vet clinic to perform the postmortem on the horse from the other day.
She drove to the clinic and was met with curious stares by the other staff members. Nola barely combed her hair, let alone colored it. “It suits you,” said the receptionist. “I like it.”
Nola smiled and thanked her though approval wasn’t really what she was looking for and the clinic staff wasn’t her intended audience. That would come later.
Nola scrubbed in and stepped into the large animal surgery suite to find Bijou there waiting for her. Even in death Bijou was a beautiful animal. But she hadn’t been cared for the way she should have been.
The owner had requested the necropsy after Bijou had died. For insurance purposes, he said. Horse necropsies tended to be rare. They were expensive so Nola was happy to take on the task.
She already knew how Bijou had died. Technically, it was the injection of sodium pentobarbital she had given the suffering horse the other day. But in reality it was the idiot rancher and his daughter. Their inadequate care of Bijou was the real cause. Nola was just trying to ease the animal’s suffering but she couldn’t very well put that detail in the necropsy report. Instead, Nola sliced open Bijou to reveal what was obvious—the horse had a twisted bowel. She would have died eventually anyway.
Nola examined every part of Bijou’s body. She scanned the abdomen and chest for any sign of abnormalities; she collected tissue and blood samples and examined them beneath a microscope and noted her findings. Since Nola had postgraduate residency training in pathology, she wouldn’t need to send the samples off to another lab to be tested for pathogens or toxicants. No one needed to know about the sodium pentobarbital.
Next Nola prepared the carcass for disposal. Since she euthanized with the pentobarbital, Nola wouldn’t be able to extract the tiny ear bones. Bijou was toxic. Too bad, she thought. She didn’t have a horse in her collection.
While she worked, Nola thought of her mother. Charlotte wasn’t all that different than Bijou after all. Ill and destined to die younger than she should. Charlotte was suffering, had a long recovery in front of her. Perhaps Nola would stop by the hospital after she was finished here. Twice in one week. Charlotte would be so excited to see her.
