Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Vicky took a deep breath and followed Alex into the clinic. He laid the little dog out on the extremely basic operating table and turned to scrub his hands before donning a plastic apron, indicating to her to do the same.
Vicky could see the dog’s chest rising and falling rapidly, far too rapidly in her inexpert opinion.
Alex felt his way up and down the dog’s body with the utmost care.
‘Can you mop up the blood first, so I can see the extent of the main wound?’
Vicky reached for the antiseptic wipes and carefully cleaned the area. It was a large gash, around ten centimetres, and it was still oozing blood.
Alex stood up straight and shook his head. She knew she wasn’t going to like what he said.
‘This dog has a very badly broken leg, plus possible internal injuries as well as that serious cut. In my professional opinion, the kindest thing to do is put her, and it is a her, out of her misery.’
‘No!’
Vicky’s shout shocked not only her, but Alex, who took a step back. Even the dog’s eyes flickered open a moment before closing again.
‘Please, no. I can’t bear it.’
Remaining calm and collected had gone out of the window, as soon as she’d seen the dog’s face.
She hoped she’d feel the same about any animal, but this dog reminded her so strongly of Scout that it was a visceral response.
If there were any chance, any chance at all, to let this dog live, she’d fight for it.
Alex stroked the dog’s head as he spoke.
‘This dog is a stray. She has no collar, owner’s tag or microchip. It will cost a lot of time and money even to try and save her, and we may not succeed.’
Vicky’s breathing was as ragged as the dog’s.
‘Please try! I will pay for everything. Medicines, scans, even your time. I have money.’
Alex frowned.
‘It’s not just about the money. And of course I wouldn’t charge for my time. What do you think I am? This is a practical decision based on the evidence in front of me.’
Vicky’s hand shook as she stroked the dog’s back, the nearest part she could reach. She had a little curl of hair on top of her head, just like Scout. The animal’s pathetic attempt at a cry in response to her touch almost broke her heart.
‘Damn the evidence. If you think she’s got a chance, even a tiny one, then please help her, I’m begging you.’
Alex looked at the dog, up at her and down at the dog again.
‘And in the unlikely event she does make it, are you going to commit to looking after her? On top of your other work at the sanctuary?’
She jumped at the tiny sign of him wavering. It was very faint, but it was definitely there.
‘Yes! Of course. I’ll do anything if you’ll help her. She’s called Dolly, by the way.’
The name had come to her a moment ago, but it felt right.
Alex threw his hands up in the air in surrender.
‘On your head be it.’
‘Thank you, thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me yet; there’s a long way to go. We might still lose her.’
Alex gave the dog a last stroke before reaching for the tools of his trade, laid out ready on the trolley.
‘Strap yourself in, Dolly, for a very bumpy ride.’
The relief washed over Vicky in waves, but there was no time to relax. All she’d won was a tiny victory in the battle to save Dolly. It would sound crazy to say it out loud, but she already loved this dog and knew she’d do anything for her. Alex had his serious face on.
‘Our first job is to get this big wound stitched up. She can’t afford to lose any more blood. Let’s give her something to dull the pain too, but not too much. It’s better if she’s conscious and we can monitor her vitals. Knocking her out completely could be the end of her.’
Vicky gave an involuntary cry of her own. She was going to have to toughen up if she was to be of any use. Taking herself back in her mind to the urgency of an intensive care hospital ward calmed her breathing instantly.
‘Can you pass me one of those syringes on the lower trolley?’
Alex’s voice at her side jolted her into action. She was his assistant here, not a gawping bystander.
The next two hours passed in a blur, as they worked together to help heal Dolly’s devastated body.
Her wounds, the obvious one and some others hidden by her fur, were sutured and her broken front leg was set in plaster.
Dolly now had several shaved patches where the stitches needed to go, and the vulnerable pink skin underneath the fur tugged at Vicky’s heart.
Drawing on her theatre experience, at least she was easily able to predict what Alex would need. The instruments might look different and be a lot smaller than she was used to, but the same principles applied.
Twice Dolly tried to raise her head and let out a tiny yowl, and the third time her head fell limply back onto the table. Vicky noted Alex’s concern.
‘She needs a little more anaesthetic. We don’t want her trying to move and making things worse.’
Vicky reached for a new syringe and passed it to him.
They’d barely spoken since he’d started the surgery.
A camera positioned on the ceiling would have shown them moving round each other in perfect accord, picking up and putting down the instruments as needed, creating intricate patterns with their footprints.
It made for a curiously intimate setting.
Another twenty minutes later, and a long sigh from Alex told her that they were nearly at the end of their task.
He ripped off his plastic apron and threw it in the bin at the side, before scrubbing his hands again.
The phone in his jacket, hung high on a hook at the other end of the room, had been ringing on and off for the past hour, the ringtone harsh in the quiet of the room.
It had started up again, and this time it wasn’t stopping. Alex reached for his jacket.
‘I had a full clinic this afternoon, and that will be Maria, my veterinary nurse, asking me where I am yet again. She can only plead a sudden emergency for so long when there are patients waiting. I’ve got to go.’
Vicky glanced at her phone and was shocked to see it was already five o’clock.
Alex reached over and touched one of Dolly’s paws that wasn’t in plaster.
‘We’ve done all we can for her, so let’s hope it’s enough. Good luck, girl.’
For a moment, Vicky wanted him to stroke her hand too. It had been such an intense experience.
‘Can you finish up here? Deal with the surgical waste and put the instruments in the steriliser? I’ll be murdered if I stay any longer.’
‘Of course, go! And thank you once again.’
‘Don’t mention it. But you know we’re not out of the woods yet by a long way, don’t you?’
Vicky nodded.
If they hadn’t done anything, there was no doubt Dolly would be dead by now from her injuries.
And if she’d agreed to Alex’s suggestion that they put her down, she’d have been helping him bury the little dog hours ago.
The fact that they’d given her the tiniest of chances was enough for now.
The rest she’d face bit by bit. Siga, siga, as the Greeks liked to say. Slowly, slowly.
Alex was halfway out of the door already.
‘She’ll come round fully soon. Get one of the volunteers to help you carry her over to a treatment room. The next twelve hours will be crucial. She needs monitoring every half an hour and keep up the painkillers and antibiotics. Make sure she’s not left on her own, won’t you?’
Vicky nodded furiously. She’d already planned to bunk down with Dolly. Maeve would surely have something useful like a camp bed. If not, a sleeping bag would do.
‘At least you’re the perfect person to do it with your nursing experience. I’ve not had such a useful volunteer in a long time.’
Was he actually paying her a compliment? Wonders would never cease.
‘I’ll be back first thing in the morning. Anything urgent, ring me, OK?’
Vicky nodded again. As soon as he left, her heart went into overtime at the realisation that she’d been left in sole charge of a very sick animal. It was what she’d asked for, but it was scary.
A memory swam into her mind of being left alone with a tiny baby the day Ian went back to work.
Not that he’d been a whole lot of use, and he’d only taken three days off anyway, rather than the weeks or months young fathers were able to take these days.
But at least there’d been someone else there with her when they’d brought their daughter back from the hospital after Tasha’s difficult birth, someone to hold her while Vicky went to the loo.
Being responsible for a defenceless human on her own had sent her anxiety through the roof.
This was a very different situation, but it was giving her the same jitters.
After disposing of the waste and setting the timer on the steriliser, she scrubbed her hands yet again.
Someone trying the door handle made her look up.
Hope flared for a moment that it was Alex saying he didn’t need to take the clinic after all.
But the practical part of her knew it was impossible.
The only other vet on the island was off in Athens.
It was fellow volunteer Aoife who popped her head round the door.
‘Alex mentioned that you might need some help.’
Vicky nodded.
‘Yes, thank you.’
‘Hey, are you OK? You look done in.’
If a twentysomething had noticed, she must look pretty dreadful. Vicky dredged up a smile from somewhere.
‘I’ve had better days.’
She leant over to pat Dolly. There was absolutely no response, although the dog’s breathing was a lot easier.
It would be good to move her before she came round.
Aoife also gave her pet a stroke. Her pet.
It sounded weird, but that’s what Dolly was now.
Hers. Aoife was still staring at her with concern.
‘I’m no vet. But that cute dog’s still out for the count. Let me get you a hot drink, and we can sit here a little while before we move her. I’m off shift now anyway.’