Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
J ohan
I have genuine regrets that I couldn’t take Cole up on his offer of lunch. It seemed a spur of the moment invitation, which surprised me. But I was more surprised that when I declined he didn’t look relieved. Well, not that I could tell. I might have stayed if I didn’t already have somewhere else to be. I’d been at the farm longer than I thought I would be but I’d enjoyed the experience. Once Cole had calmed down. He wasn’t in a good state when I arrived, which I’m guessing was because of me, but to cut him some slack, he didn’t cancel on me, which I’d half expected. I didn’t like that he felt that way about me, but I realise he’s like that about everyone, except people he knows well. Maybe I could get to know him better, too.
I pull up at the tattoo parlour, just in time for my appointment. I love getting some ink and this is the first time since Erik left me. I hadn’t wanted to get anything done too soon. It might have been something I’d regret later. But I felt that although dating was still something I wasn’t interested in, the sting of Erik’s betrayal wasn’t quite so sharp. I want something to symbolise a fresh start, something forward-looking. I’ve decided on a small blue dragon. I have a few dragons already, but this one is a delicate looking dragon, it’s body almost ribbon like. I’d seen the design for it a while ago and was excited to get the indigo ink on the back of my arm.
As I settle into the chair, I can’t stop my thoughts wandering back over the morning. I can’t quite believe how Cole seemed to change once he was tapped into something which he held a passion for. He relaxed, and his face changed from its customary scowl to something much softer. His eyes lightened and he seemed almost happy. I’d like to see him like that more often. The thought surprises me and I try to push away any more like it. No dating, and I am pretty sure it’s not something Cole is interested in. No dating; friends then. I could be a friend. I don’t want to spend all my time with Ben and Keith. They are good to me, but it isn’t fair on them to have me hanging around all the time. They need their privacy. Harlen is interesting, but I sense there’s something that prevents him living his life to the full. Some sadness that he carries everywhere with him.
Once the tattoo is finished, the artist wraps it for me and I start my journey back to the village.
I’m a few miles out from Larchdown, driving through the woods, when I spy a white van stopped by the side of the road. I think it might be fly tipping. What is wrong with this country where people leave rubbish by the side of the road. I slow down a little, then it speeds away. I curse. I don’t get a look at the number plate, not that it would have done much good anyway. I’m not sure if I want to tackle them or not, I’m just pissed that they would litter these beautiful woods. As I drive past I see something on the ground. I’m not sure what it is but I pull over anyway, get out of the truck and go over.
Fuck, it’s a small dog. Well, maybe not that small, but it looks it, all curled up in a bundle of bony legs and scruffy hair. I’m appalled and not even sure it is alive. I move a little closer and it opens one brown eye and looks at me. It looks so pitiful lying there. I don’t want to frighten it so I crouch down.
“Hey, little fella,’ I try to keep my voice soft. The very end of its tail which is curled round its body flutters slightly and my heart breaks for it.
“You don’t look so good.” I croon to it and its body shifts ever so slightly. I reach out and stroke the back of my hand over its spine. Fuck, I can feel every ridge of its back. But it doesn’t shy away or look like it’s going to bite my hands. I run back to the truck and get my jumper. I place the jumper on the ground next to it and very carefully slide its body over onto the soft material.
“Let’s get you some help, little one.” I keep talking to it softly and it gives another wiggle of its tail. I can feel the tears in my eyes, that it’s willing to trust someone, when it has obviously been neglected. I gently pick up the bundle of my jumper and the dog and cradle it in my arms. Now I can see the other side of his face. I can see he has a blue eye as well.
“Well, aren’t you a special little guy.” I can’t help but smile at him as I carry him over to the truck and gently place him on the seat. Then I do the only thing I can think of. I take him to the only veterinary surgeon I know.
Cole is in the yard as I drive in. I’ve travelled the few miles as fast as I dared with the dog on the seat. He gives me a frown as I come to a stop and jump out.
“I need your help. I know you’re not on duty today.” His frown deepens and it looks like it might turn into a scowl.
“I found a dog. He’s in a bad way.” His look turns into concern and he crosses the few yards to the truck in a second. I pull open the car door and he peers in.
Then he looks straight back at me.
“Where?”
“In the woods, I saw a van.” At that he does scowl for a second, then he straightens up.
“Bring him over to the surgery.”
He jogs ahead of me, opening the door and switching the lights on.
“Place him on the table.” He turns and reaches for a stethoscope, placing it round his neck and hooking the ear pieces in.
I place the little dog down and he just lays there. He looks a bit wary, but otherwise doesn’t move. Cole parts the matted fur on the dog’s chest, grimacing at the state of the poor creature.
“His fur is disgusting, he might have fleas, or mange, or both.”
After he spends a few minutes listening to the dog’s chest, he nods and removes the stethoscope from his ears.
He gently puts his hands on the dog’s muzzle and lifts his lips to take a look. He peers at his teeth and gently pushes a finger to his gum. When he releases it I watch in wonder as the white-looking gum slowly returns to the pink it was before.
Cole sighs.
“Well, his heart is good, and his lungs sound okay. He is a little anaemic, but mostly he’s dehydrated, malnourished, weak, and he might have some skin condition. We won’t know until we can have a good look at it.
I take a breath. “So, is he going to be okay?”
Cole looks at me. Although he had just spoken to me, it was in a very professional tone. I hadn’t heard him speak like that before. But it’s as if he notices who is asking and he looks a little startled. But he does answer.
“It is early days, but I hope so.”
I sigh, relieved that he at least has a chance.
“But I need to get him on a drip for a while. Hold on, I’ll call Sam to come and help.” He starts to move away.
“Can I help?” Again he looks surprised, then thoughtful for a minute.
“I should think so. I can do most of it if you’re okay to help.”
“I’ll do anything.” He nods at me again before heading off. I turn back to the little dog and gently stroke his fur. I don’t want to touch him too much in case his skin is sore, but I want to give him some comfort. Now I can see him properly under the electric lights of the surgery, I can see that his fur is a blueish grey. Well, it might be, underneath the mud and muck that’s sticking to him. And he isn’t that little; he has long legs, they’re just scrunched up round him. He still looks up at me, but apart from that, he doesn’t move at all.
“You’re safe now. We’ll look after you.” I keep my voice low, murmuring to him. I hardly notice when Cole returns and puts down some supplies on the table. When I look up he has a half-smile on his lips. I quirk one back at him, and his eyes meet mine briefly before he picks up a clear bag.
“This is a saline solution, which he’ll need before we try and give him anything to drink or eat. He’s too weak right now to be able to swallow and probably can’t hold anything down.”
I can feel anger rising at the thought of someone allowing a dog to get into this situation. But I push it down for now. There’ll be time to be angry later.
I watch as he takes out a small electric razor and shaves off a small patch of the dog’s fur on his front leg. Then he opens a sterile packet holding a small length of tube and a nasty looking needle.
“Can you hold him steady?” Cole asks, and I place my hands on the dog while Cole takes hold of his leg. He deftly inserts the needle. The dog doesn’t so much as flinch and I’m impressed. As he withdraws the needle, the tube stays in and I see some blood leaking. Cole pushes a cap on the end.
“Can you hold this?” Cole gives me the bag. “Higher,” he says and moves my hand into a position he is happy with. I watch as he attaches a pipe to the bag and then fixes it to the tube in the dog’s leg, flipping off the cap. He secures it with some tape, then looks up at me.
“We’ll put him in one of the cages here overnight. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
“In the cage?” I ask, not wanting to see him in a box.
“It will stop him being able to move, not that he can much at the moment. But if he can’t move, the catheter will have a better chance of staying in.”
I understand and nod. “What about his fur? He needs cleaning.”
“He does, but at the moment it isn’t our biggest priority. When he’s a bit stronger he can have a bath and we can see what state his skin is in.”
“Can I do it?” I’m surprised at my overwhelming urge to help the dog and care for him—though not fully surprised—it’s been growing since I found him by the side of the road.
Cole regards me again. “If you want to, then yes, you can help clean him up.”
“Thank you.” He takes the clear bag from me and says, “Can you bring him and we’ll put him away.”
He’s still laid on my jumper and I wrap my hands round him as a bundle and pick him up. I put the whole lot, dog and jumper, into the cage.
“Your jumper,” Cole says, half statement and half question.
“He looks comfortable on it and I don’t want to disturb him. I don’t need it.” It’s true, I don’t, and he looks settled. It probably isn’t wearable again so he might as well use it as a bed for now. When I straighten up I catch Cole with that adorable half-smile on his face again. He shuts the door of the cage and motions for me to follow him outside.
“Thank you for your help,” I say, as soon as we’re clear of the building and walking across the yard, roughly in the direction of my truck. Well Tom’s truck.
“I am glad you brought him to me. Did you see what happened?”
“It was just a white van. I didn’t get a look at the guys or the registration plate. I thought they were fly tipping at first. I almost didn’t see him.” I jerk my head back towards the surgery building.
Cole sighs. “Probably hare coursers. It’s illegal in this country, but it doesn’t stop them. They’ve been known to dump dogs who are no longer of any use to them, or sometimes they just leave them behind if their coursing is disturbed by the police. The police will only seize the dogs, anyway. I’ll check tomorrow if he has a microchip. All dogs are supposed to have them, by law, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he didn’t, not if he was a courser.”
I hadn’t heard of coursing before and Cole explained the sport of setting dogs after hares, usually in fields after the crops had been harvested or before they’ve grown too much in the spring.
“He is definitely a lurcher and possibly a blue merle. We’ll find out once we’ve cleared off the dirt.”
“A lurcher?” I’m curious as it’s not a breed of dog I’ve heard of before.
“A lurcher is a greyhound mixed with another breed of dog. They’re usually bred for hare coursing, to get the speed, as well as some other attributes.”
“How long until he can eat? Or stand?” I ask.
Cole looks at me, and a flicker of something fills his eyes. When he responds, it’s in his professional tone again.
“The next twenty-four hours are crucial. If he survives that?—”
“I thought you said he should be okay,” I blurt out.
“And he should.” Cole doesn’t give anything away, I guess in his profession he has to not show much emotion. “But there is a chance that there’s something else going on, some internal damage that we can’t see. He’s very weak.”
I start to feel sick. I thought that he was going to be fine, that it was just going to take time. I fight the nausea and concentrate on what Cole is saying.
“Like I said, he should be fine. I don’t have any reason to suspect there’s anything else wrong, but in truth I don’t know at this stage. The next day is important, if nothing else is wrong with him then we may be able to try him on some food tomorrow.”
I nod, feeling a bit better, but Cole isn’t looking unduly worried. I wonder if that is because he’s probably seen many more cases like this. But the side I’ve seen of Cole earlier today, convinces me that he really cares about animals, and I take this as a good sign that he doesn’t seem too worried about the dog.
“He needs rest, but I’ll check on him later tonight.”
I know there is nothing more I need to stay for. I would love to stay with the dog and see if he’s okay, but I can gather from Cole’s tone that he thinks the dog should be left alone for now. I can’t imagine how I’m going to settle wondering if he’ll be alright.
“Will you let me know how he is later when you’ve checked on him?” Cole looks a bit startled at my words, and I think he has mentally separated me from the dog. “Please?” I try again.
“Sure, if you really want to know.”
“Yes, I really want to know.” I try and impress on him how much I want to know. “Can I give you my number?”
Cole briefly hesitates before taking out his phone. He unlocks it and hands it to me to put my number in. After I hand the phone back, he pockets it and starts to turn away. It bugs me slightly but I am getting used to his ways. He’s thinking about the next thing, but I don’t feel like letting him off that easy and I wanted to thank him.
“Thank you, Cole.” He turns round at the sound of his name.
“It’s nothing.” He shrugs it off.
“It’s not nothing. What you do is incredible and I’m impressed. I could never do anything like that.” Again I get the half-smile before he looks down at the ground, that half-smile which, every time it appears, lodges in my chest, and if I’m not careful, will fill up the vacant hole there. I know I shouldn’t let it happen, but I find myself trying a little harder each time for that reward.
“You will let me know later, won’t you?” I ask again, just so he knows I mean it.
He lifts his eyes and nods once. This time, there’s no customary scowl, or concern, just his handsome face looking back at me. And my mouth goes dry. Oh no, this is not a good sign. I said I wanted to be friends.
“Well, bye Cole.” I hear my voice is croaky. I need to put some distance between us.
“Bye, Johan.” And damn if he doesn’t give me the half-smile again. This time it’s me who leaves hurriedly, before I can make a fool of myself.