Chapter 2
TWO
The helicopter dips low as the caribou veers sharply across the open field, its hooves kicking up dirt as he tries to get away. But our pilot is steady and composed, matching its pace with ease and staying just close enough for Greg, one of the best netgunners in our wildlife capture crew, to get a clear shot. Greg leans forward, the air pistol loaded with an immobilization dart, while I keep my focus locked on the caribou. My heart pounds in time with the thrum of the rotors as I watch and wait, because I have to call this off in ten seconds if Greg doesn’t land the shot. The caribou is close to showing signs of fatigue, and once he does, we have to stop pursuit.
But Greg does what he does best, and the dart lands perfectly on the caribou’s rump. It stumbles, slowing as the sedative begins to take hold. Our pilot expertly pulls the helicopter back, giving it space to go down slowly, yet hovering close enough for me to keep a watchful eye on it.
This is my least favourite part of being a wildlife veterinarian .
Once the caribou is down, the pilot hovers just above the ground, allowing Mike and me to hop out. And I’m thankful Mike is the ecologist with me today. He’s a close friend, so on long days like this, it’s helpful to have someone I can complain to when needed, especially since we’ve already darted three caribou. Thankfully this is the last one for the day.
“I hate that part,” I mutter as the helicopter lifts away to give us a quiet environment to work in. I kneel beside the sedated animal, quickly blindfolding him to reduce visual stimulation while Mike secures hobbles on the caribou’s legs to prevent any sudden kicks.
“Yeah,” Mike says solemnly. “But it’s needed. How else are we going to save these guys?”
I nod, sighing as I look down at the caribou. He’s right. Caribou are in a steady state of decline here in Newfoundland, and as the lead wildlife vet on this conservation project, it’s my job to help figure out why. And hopefully contribute to an increase in population. Predators take their toll, but we need more data to understand other factors at play, such as parasites, disease, and environmental changes. For the population to stabilize at the current level, calf survival rates alone need to increase by at least fifteen percent. That’s a large target.
We work quickly, falling into the rhythmic routine that we’ve developed from doing this together so often over the past year. Mike removes the dart and tilts the caribou’s head to ensure his airway stays clear, and I begin the physical exam, checking reflexes, pulmonary and cardiac function, and body temperature.
“Two years old,” I say after inspecting the caribou’s teeth for an age estimate.
Mike jots it down on the clipboard with the rest of the data I’ve given him. “Got it. ”
I frown, noticing a wound on the caribou’s leg, likely about a week old. It’s pretty deep, and I can’t say I’m pleased with how it’s healing. “Antibiotics,” I say to Mike, and he passes me the vet bag.
I’d much rather take my time to clean it out properly, but we’re racing against the clock with only fifteen minutes to complete everything we need to do. So a quick wash out and a strong dose of antibiotics is going to have to do.
After the medication is administered, we quickly gather the rest of the data and samples we need, including a blood draw, hair follicle extraction, and an oral swab for genetic analysis. Before securing the GPS collar on him, I mark the drug we used and our contact information in case anyone finds him in distress. Hopefully he won’t need further intervention, but we’ll be back tomorrow to check on him either way.
Just as we’re wrapping up, the sound of the helicopter grows louder as it returns to pick us up. We remove the hobbles and blindfold, and I administer the reversal drug as the helicopter lands nearby. The caribou stirs as Mike and I quickly hop aboard, and the pilot circles him widely so I can watch from above to make sure he’s ok. The caribou regains his footing, and within seconds he’s trotting off towards his herd waiting nearby.
“We’re good,” I say, and the pilot turns the helicopter, heading back to the conservation centre.
“Drinks after hockey tonight?”
I turn my head to Mike as he smiles back at me.
“Yeah,” I chuckle. “I’m in.”
“Sick.” He nods. “I need to talk about some table setting options.”
A laugh escapes me, and Greg shakes his head from the front seat, glancing back at Mike .
“What?” Mike asks, looking between us. “Look, planning a wedding is hard work. I told Andrea I would look after the table settings, so I’m doing it. And you, Trev, are going to help me pick a fucking centrepiece like the good little best man you are.”
Greg huffs a laugh and looks out the window, clearly leaving this one to me.
I cock an eyebrow at Mike. “Dude, your wedding is a month away. You think the table settings haven’t already been decided? She’s just keeping you busy.”
His brow furrows as he stares back at me. Then he nods slowly and frowns. “I did hear her talking about vases, roses, and runners…”
I reach out and squeeze his shoulder. “We’ll drink about it tonight.”
“Good,” he mumbles. “I have feelings now.”
“You joining us, Greg?” I ask, shifting my gaze to him in the front seat.
He glances back at us again. “Not to watch you guys lose at hockey again. I’ll join after.”
I scoff. “Fuck off.”
He smirks, and Mike snaps out of his sadness to point a finger at him. “You shut your mouth.”
“Need I remind you you’re supposed to be on this team too? Should drop in more often. And the last game you watched, we lost by one goal,” I say as the helicopter approaches the landing pad at the conservation centre. “Get over it.”
Greg chuckles, but doesn’t say anything else as the helicopter touches down and he just pulls his headset off and gets out.
“Fucker,” I mutter with a smirk and Mike nods in agreement as we grab our gear and hop out after him.
Mike heads to his office to wrap up for the day, and I make my way towards the lab. As I push the door open, Kristen, one of the lab techs, looks up from behind her microscope.
“How’d it go?” she asks, standing up and holding her hand out.
“Good,” I say, passing her the transport box with the samples. “Four total, sampled and collared.”
“Nice.” She smiles and opens the box to start putting everything where it should be so the lab can get to work on analyzing it. “You’re back tomorrow?”
I nod. “Just in the morning to monitor the caribou we sedated today. Working in the clinic after that.”
Kristen glances up at me. “Ever rest?”
I smile innocently back at her. “Now why would I do such a boring thing like that?”
She huffs, closing the now empty transport box, and hands it back to me. “Tell Neville I say hi.”
My smile grows. “He’ll be very happy to hear you say that.”
“Sure,” she laughs. “We all know he only has eyes for you.”
“Yeah…” I shrug with a smile. “I’m not complaining.”
She waves me away as she turns back to her microscope. “See you tomorrow.”
“See ya,” I chuckle, and leave her to her work.
As I make my way to my truck, I shoot our friend Jason a text to ask if he’s joining us tonight. He missed the last Thursday night hang out, so I’m hoping he can make this one.
The drive home luckily isn’t a long one, which is a good thing since I don’t have a lot of time to eat and change before heading out to hockey. Before long my farmhouse comes into view, sitting quietly among the fields that roll towards the cliffs and the sea beyond.
The moment I step inside my house, I smile at the sound of Neville making his way down the stairs .
“Hey,” I say to him as he enters the kitchen at the same time I do.
Neville scurries over to me, his little raccoon claws digging into my flesh with every frantic reach as he tries to climb my leg.
“Ok, ok,” I laugh, reaching down to scoop him up.
But he immediately starts reaching into all my pockets, searching for treats.
“Oh, so that’s why you’re so excited to see me,” I chuckle, walking over to the cupboard where I keep his favourite treats. “Only because you were home alone all day,” I say as I pull the jujubes out.
He wraps his little paws around the jujube I hold out for him, and I chuckle as I set him down and he takes it to his little bed in the corner of the kitchen.
I watch him as he nibbles away, until my phone buzzes in my pocket.
Jason
Yeah man, I’m not missing this one. Natalie is out with her mom so I have the baby, but once she’s home, I’ll be there.
Awesome, see you soon!
I shove my phone back in my pocket and let my gaze travel out the window, across the large, empty fields. A quiet loneliness settles in the air around me as I let my mind wander, as it often does, to the things I want but can’t seem to find.
My friends have it all. They’re getting married, starting families… and I come home to this old farmhouse, alone, every night. And while I am happy, and I’m surrounded by people I love… I want nothing more than to share this home with someone .
With a sigh, I look down at Neville, who’s finished his treat and is now tugging at my jeans and staring up at me with his masked, mischievous eyes.
And I can’t help but smile.
“It’s just you and me for now, bud.”