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>Okay, I tried to emphasoze the ordeal without making >him a wuss. I hope I stuck a balance. >I'm with Esther, I don't expect a huge crit because I >want everyone to be writing on their own stuff. I >would howev er appreciate a flashlight beamed into >glaring holes. Thanks!! > >"Old Dogs" (working title) copyright 2009, Debi >Matlack, all rights reserved. Posted for sharing and >critique purposes only; does not constitute >publication. > > >Valerie washed her hands at the sink in the clinic’s >lab, getting ready to leave. It was Saturday evening >and she had just finished walking the dogs and doing >treatments on the inpatients. Her cell rang. It was >Alan. > >“Hey Val, I’m on my way. Daniel’s heading there with a >cat.” > > “I didn’t know he had a cat.” She felt a preliminary >adrenaline squeeze as she turned around and went back >down the hallway, turning on the radiographic unit and >the oxygen on the anesthesia machine. > >“He doesn’t that I know of. He hit this one on the >road.” > >There was a banging at the outside door. “I think he’s >here.” As she hurried around the corner to the door >she saw Daniel through the sidelight standing there >with a furry bundle in his hands and blood dripping >from his elbows. “It’s him. It looks bad.” > >“I’ll be there in a minute.” > >“Hurry.” She snapped the phone closed as she unlocked >the door. Daniel rushed in bearing the limp body >before him like an offering. > >“Stupid thing ran right in front of me. I tried to >stop, I really did.” > >Valerie was already moving. “I know. C’mon.” She >beckoned him to follow her. Valerie was more worried >about Daniel than she was the cat. He looked unnerved, >his bright green eyes nearly black with anxiety. She >took him back to the surgery and he laid the calico >cat on the table. The little body was limp, her fur >matted with blood from an unknown source. Valerie >grabbed a stethoscope and listened. There was a faint >pulse but the cat wasn’t breathing. > >“Can you help me?” > >Daniel stared at her with a blank expression for a >split second before he shook himself. > >“Yes. What do I do?” > >Valerie chose a very small endotracheal tube and >flipped the bright overhead surgery light on. She >carefully rolled the cat onto her chest, wincing at >the feel of broken ribs. Taking his hand, she showed >him how to grasp the cat by the upper jaw. “Here; hold >her like this. Okay, tip her head back; point her nose >to the ceiling. Don’t worry, you won’t hurt her.” She >took her free hand and guided him. > >She peered in and saw blood but was able to ease the >tube into place, tie it in with string gauze and hook >the oxygen up. Daniel stepped back to lean against the >wall. >“There’s a stool there if you want to sit.” > >Daniel found it, slouching onto the seat, his elbows >on his knees, hands dangling between them, covered in >blood. > >Valerie squeezed the bag on the machine to breathe for >the cat. There was a faint gurgling sound and she >could see blood on the inside of the tube. Not good… > >The door banged open and she heard Alan hurrying down >the hallway. He grabbed the stethoscope and listened. >He shook his head, then felt for a pulse by gently >gripping the cat’s chest between his thumb and >fingers. When he compressed her chest for CPR, he >winced. Alan touched Valerie’s hand; she was busy >concentrating on breathing for the cat. He shook his >head and she stopped, twisting the knob supplying the >oxygen back down. Alan sighed, listened again with the >stethoscope and looked at Daniel. >“I’m sorry,” he said. > >Daniel stared for a moment, then dropped his head >forward. “Damn, damn, damn.” After a moment he lifted >his face again with a sigh. “Thank you.” > >Valerie had covered the little body with a towel. She >looked back at Daniel and her brows drew together as >she saw his hands anew. Blood was still oozing. > >Alan followed her gaze. “Did she bite or claw you?” He >picked up the shrouded cat, turning to the door. > >“Yes. I was trying to get her wrapped in a jacket, but >she got me.” > >“Let Val clean you up while I take care of this.” >Alan’s footsteps echoed down the quiet hall, then the >sound of a door opening and closing again. > >Valerie sighed and beckoned Daniel toward the sink >with a wave of her hand, turning the hot water on. >“Come here.” > >With a puzzled look, he complied. Valerie opened a >drawer by the sink and extracted a bottle of surgical >scrub and a hand brush. She directed him to put his >hands under the faucet. > >“Bloody hell! It’s hot!” > >“It needs to be.” She did temper the heat a little by >twisting the knob for the cold water on, then poured >the soap over the bristles and gave it to him. “Scrub >with this; make them bleed.” > >“What, bleed more? Why did you get by with a spray >from the hose?” > >“Because I got cut with rose thorns, not cat teeth and >claws.” > >As the water washed the blood away, Daniel’s hands >were revealed to be a mass of cuts and punctures. He >seemed as surprised as she was at the extent of his >injuries. “It seemed like she maybe scratched me once; >it looks more like my hands have been minced.” He >poked gingerly at the wounds with the brush. > >“Scrub. You have to open them up.” > >“It hurts.” > >“I know it does; here—“ Valerie took the brush from >him in one hand and took one of his hands with the >other, both of them leaning over the sink. She gave >him a quick, sympathetic smile. > >“This will probably hurt more.” > >Daniel’s face set in a grimace. “Thanks for the >warning.” > >Valerie began scrubbing his right hand, making sure >that no flap of skin, no puncture was left unmolested >by the brush and disinfectant. She heard grunts and >hisses of pain from him but he didn’t complain or pull >away. >Finishing with the right, she took his left hand in >her own. She felt the wedding band still on his left >hand. “I need to take this off before your hands swell >much more. You don’t want to have to cut it off.” She >felt his nod and heard a strained, “’kay.” She poured >more of the liquid scrub soap over his finger and >worked the ring loose with care. It was a tight fit >but she managed to get it free and laid the band on >the countertop by the sink. >Back to her cleaning, Valerie concentrated on >searching out and scrubbing the wounds. After a few >moments she realized Daniel was leaning on her >heavily, almost draped over her shoulder. She was >pinned against the sink and looked up in alarm. What >she could see of Daniel’s face was pale and sweating >and his head hung forward. > >“Alan!!” she shouted and twisted to grab Daniel by his >collar, dragging him forward over the sink, trying to >balance him. His position was ideal for smashing his >head on the stainless steel surgical table if he went >back. Her hands were slippery with soap and she could >feel Daniel’s collar sliding from her grasp. > >“ALAN!!” > >He came sliding around the corner. “Oh shit!” He >grabbed the rolling stool, jammed it behind Daniel’s >knees and reached for his shoulders. Valerie let him >collapse onto the stool. Maintaining her tenuous grip >on his collar, she pushed his head between his knees, >Alan’s feet chocking the wheels so the stool wouldn’t >roll away. > >“Breathe, Daniel, okay?” There was no immediate verbal >response, but he did heave a great sigh. She glanced >up at Alan. > >He gave her a studiously blank look. “Don’t look at >me, I don’t treat primates.” > >Valerie shook her head, exasperated. “Sometimes, Alan, >I’m amazed at the things you can do.” She raised her >brows. “This isn’t one of those times.” > >He chuckled. “I love you too, Val.” > >Valerie felt Daniel lift his head and she turned to >lean over him. > >“Can I come out now?” His voice was strained with pain >but plaintive. > >She breathed a little laugh and patted his shoulder. >“Slowly.” She kept her hand on the back of his neck to >push him back down again if the need arose. >He took a few deep breaths and ventured a rueful smile. > >“Last time I did that was when Penny was born.” He >lifted his hands to see the still-oozing wounds, >wincing as he touched the bloody digits. “Don’t think >I’ll be flying with these soon. Good job I just got >back in.” > >Alan shook his head. “We need to take you to the >emergency room.” > >“I’ll take him. You need to…” She gave Alan a >significant look and nodded toward the other room >where the cat’s body still lay. > >“Yeah. I will. As a matter of fact, I’ll just…” Alan >scurried from the room. > >Daniel looked from Alan’s retreating back, back to >Valerie. She was gratified to see he had regained most >of his normal color. > >“What was that about?” > >“Some tissue samples on the cat he needs to send off.” > >“Why? Isn’t she dead?” > >“Yes, but she’s probably a stray, and she bit you, so >we have to test her for rabies.” > >“Rabies?” He gusted out a breath. “Bloody hell.” > >“Don’t worry, I’m the veteran of many a cat bite. I’ll >walk you through it.” She spied his wedding ring lying >on the counter. “But before I forget…” She rummaged in >a drawer, tore off a piece of string gauze, threaded >it through the gold band and tied the ends. Bending >over him, she hung it around his neck and tucked the >ring through the shirt placket. Daniel’s eyes followed >her motions then he gave her a quiet nod. > >“Thanks.” > >Valerie nodded, once again digging through the >drawers, pulling out bandage materials. She soaked >gauze sponges in iodine and packed these around >Daniel’s fingers and palms. A muffled hiss escaped him >as she touched his hands and she paused. > >“You okay?” > >A soft grunt preceded his reply. “I’m all right. Just >feels like my hands have been set on fire.” > >Valerie shook her head, wrapping in roll cotton around >his marinating fingers. “I don’t know how you aren’t >screaming right now. I’ve had plenty of cat bites and >they hurt like hell. But you’ve got every cat bite >I’ve ever had multiplied by a hundred.” Roll gauze >secured the cotton. “You must have a high tolerance.” > >His eyes were narrowed over his set jaw. “Not really.” >His left hand received the same treatment and Valerie >covered the gauze on both hands with bright VetWrap. >His hands had been muffled completely and now >resembled clubs. >“Sorry, it appears the only color we have is hot pink.” > >Daniel wheezed a laugh. “Just my luck, to be paraded >about in public with neon pink boxing gloves.” She got >a hand under his elbow and helped him stand. > >“Keep your hands above your heart.” > >He took a breath, crooked his elbows and held his pink >fists in front of his chin. “I look like I’m ready to >go a couple of rounds with Mike Tyson.” > >Valerie snickered. “We would need the emergency room >after that.” > >“What, you don’t think I could take him?” Daniel >didn’t quite smile, but his eyes crinkled at her, >amusement overriding the discomfort for a second. > >“C’mon, Evander Holyfield, let’s get you to the >hospital. Alan,” she called out, “we’re leaving.” > >As they turned into the hallway, one of the exam room >doors opened and Alan slipped out, closing the door >behind him. He raised a brow at Daniel’s mitts. > >“Neon pink, hmm?” > >“It’s all we had.” > >Alan nodded with a smirk, then sobered. “I’m sorry >Daniel; we couldn’t do anything for the cat. You okay?” > >Daniel acknowledged his sympathy with a nod. “I might >live. I appreciate the effort, and all the nursing >care I’ve gotten. I’ll keep an eye out for suicidal >cats from now on.” > >“It looks like she had kittens.” > >Daniel closed his eyes, brow furrowing in regret. >Opening them again, he fixed Alan with a pleading >look. “Please try to find them. It happened just past >the curve on Cooper’s Lake Drive, maybe a half-mile >from my drive. I’ll take care of the expenses, >just—please try. I feel terrible.” > >“I’ll go have a look,” Alan reassured him. He steered >Daniel toward the front door. “You go and get your >hands taken care of and don’t worry about the rest. >I’ll handle it.” Looking at Valerie he asked, “There a >chance Vic is on tonight?” > >“Maybe; he usually works weekends. I’ll call on the >way.” >He turned back to the room and gave Valerie a smile >and a pat on the arm. “Take good care of him.” > >“Of course,” she replied, grabbing her bag and keys >from behind the counter.
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