Chapter 16 #2
Suzie got up and hugged them both in turn. Panos and Lydia also had each other to lean on. Who did she have? Or was that a selfish way to think? You’ve made your bed, and now you’ve got to lie in it, as her mother would say.
Vicky put the last of the food buckets and bowls back in the allotted cupboards and glanced at her phone. Suzie had messaged a few minutes earlier to say she’d be there in half an hour. There was plenty of time to check on Dolly and have a play with her.
Just her hand on the door of the clinic had the little dog barking.
The sight of her in a cage pierced Vicky’s heart, but it was only for a couple of weeks.
Dolly’s broken front leg was in a plaster cast, and they couldn’t risk any further damage, which would delay the healing process.
Keeping her still and stopping her from putting any weight on the leg was vital.
Not that anyone had told Dolly that. The little dog was desperate to get up and out and was already waving her broken leg about like a crutch.
Vicky rushed to the dog’s side and pulled open the little trapdoor to stroke her.
‘Shhh, Dolly. You have to stay calm.’
Vicky submitted to a thorough licking of her hand. Dolly’s little pink tongue was working overtime, and she was also managing to thump her tail against the floor of the cage.
‘Clever girl. I know, I know. You’re pleased to see me. I’ve only been away for a matter of minutes, so don’t you dare make out you’re lonely, because I have it on good authority that you’ve had a stream of visitors all morning.’
The news of Dolly’s accident had spread fast, and nearly every one of the volunteers had been in for a look and a stroke. It might have been only two days since the dog had been admitted, but she’d made a lot of friends in a short time.
Her most attentive friend was a tiny black cat, who looked a little like a mini-Batman, with his pointy ears and darker circles around his yellow eyes.
His name had been chosen by fellow volunteer Graham.
Each of the volunteers took it in turns to name an animal, which was then photographed and put on social media by Maria in a bid to attract those wanting to adopt a pet or donate.
Graham had named him Bruce, after Batman’s alias: Bruce Wayne, the wealthy playboy industrialist who put on his cape and tights to fight evil.
The thought of Graham in tights with his underpants on the outside wasn’t a pleasant one, but the cat was a sweetie. And the name suited him.
Bruce was fascinated by Dolly and any chance he got he’d sneak in when the clinic door was open and sit as near to the dog as he could.
Sometimes he’d jump right up onto the table and try to shove his paw through the wire mesh.
There was plenty of miaowing and barking going back and forth.
Vicky couldn’t decide if it was friendly fire or not, but they both seemed to enjoy it.
Dolly had stopped licking Vicky’s hand and was now giving her what Vicky would describe as a pleading look.
‘Do you want me to sing some more Dolly Parton? Is that what you want? I’ve got to do your checks in a minute and give you some more antibiotics. I suppose we could combine the two things if you insist.’
With a thermometer in hand, Vicky sang the first lines of ‘Nine to Five’, becoming louder and louder as she got towards the chorus.
‘Sorry if it’s a little cold on your bottom, sweetheart. I’ll sing really loud in this bit.’
Dolly’s weak yelp was drowned out by Vicky ‘pouring herself a cup of ambition’.
She held the instrument up to the light to check the temperature.
‘All normal, Dolly. Well done.’
Bruce appeared at her feet and wound himself round her legs.
‘How did you get in, my little superhero? I can’t stroke you until I’ve washed this and put it back in the steriliser and given your little mate her antibiotics, but I’ll bet you’d like some singing too, wouldn’t you?’
‘Working nine till five…’
Not that she was. That was the beauty of the sanctuary.
She wasn’t in an office, a hospital or even her marital home under anyone’s strict timetable anymore.
Now she was no longer a newbie; the volunteers agreed between themselves who did what, and she could swim in the sea after lunch for as long as she liked.
Best of all, there were no bossy doctors telling her what to do.
Adding an extra twirl, Vicky came face to face with Alex.
‘Aaaargh!’
The mystery of Bruce’s clinic visit was solved.
‘You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.’
‘I was hardly sneaking. And I didn’t want to interrupt your beautiful singing.’
He kept a straight face. Her singing wasn’t bad, but she wouldn’t call it beautiful. It wasn’t on Suzie’s level.
‘Well, you scared me.’
Alex put both hands up.
‘Sorry. Just coming to see my patient. Have you given her the antibiotics yet?’
Give me a chance; I only finished my actual job and came in here five minutes ago is what she really wanted to say. But Alex was giving his time for free, and Dolly needed him.
‘Not yet.’
‘Let’s get her out on the table together. With you to hold her, we can keep her stable and get the antibiotics into her quicker.’
Alex turned on his million-dollar smile for a fraction of a second.
‘And please don’t stop singing on my account. It would be a shame to deprive the animal world. Who needs medication when Dolly Parton’s in town?’
Vicky focused hard on the liquid soap dispenser as they washed their hands side by side in the large trough of a sink with its row of taps.
Dolly was overjoyed to be released from her confines, and Vicky’s face was wet in seconds with all the licking. She’d managed to give the dog the equivalent of a bed bath yesterday, avoiding her stitches, so she was sweet-smelling again and white in colour instead of a grubby grey.
Vicky placed her carefully on the table, holding onto the injured leg all the time while Alex syringed the antibiotics into Dolly’s mouth.
Afterwards he transferred the little dog back to her cage with the utmost care, and they were soon side by side scrubbing their hands again.
Alex reached for a paper towel first and wrote a couple of things down in Dolly’s treatment book.
‘She’s a brave little thing, isn’t she? We did a good job.’
It was the first sensible thing he’d said all morning.
Vicky risked a smile of her own.
‘We definitely did.’
Alex took a toy from his pocket and went to place it into Dolly’s cage, a little rubber mouse with fabric ears, which squeaked when you bit it, as Dolly did over and over again.
It was nice of him, but Vicky really hoped Dolly would tire of the toy quickly.
She was the first one in there every morning, and the noise would drive her potty.
Alex laughed as Dolly gave the toy a particularly savage mauling.
‘It must be boring as hell in that cage. I’m hoping she’ll only have to be in there another week or so and then you can start taking her out on short walks on the lead to build her strength up.’
‘Dolly’ll love that. She’s so sociable.’
Alex picked up Bruce with one hand and nestled him into the crook of his arm, and as he stroked the little cat, the room was filled with purring.
‘And this guy seems to be her number one fan.’
‘Yes, he’s one smitten kitten.’
‘Kitten? He’s a young adult cat now.’
Did he have to take everything so literally?
‘Yes, I know. It’s just a phrase. Maybe you don’t have it in Greece? You can use it for anyone ? dogs, cats, giraffes, even humans ? who are “smitten” with someone.’
‘“Smitten”?’
‘It means taken with, attracted to, enchanted, bewitched, crazy about…’
Why had she turned into a dictionary?
That smile was back.
‘Ah, we say mageménos in Greece. I get it now.’
She’d bet good money he really knew what ‘smitten’ meant. He was enjoying this.
‘I’m glad. But to put it in terms you can easily understand, yes, Bruce likes nothing better than being near Dolly. It’s cute.’
‘Agreed. In whatever language. I was about to say that Dolly doesn’t need monitoring so closely anymore.
As long as you check her last thing at night and first thing in the morning, and she has water and food…
’ Alex pointed at the camp bed in the corner.
‘You can go back to your own bed. Which I’m sure will be a relief.
There’s nothing like sinking into your own bed at night between freshly washed linen sheets smelling of lavender, and having space to spread out, knowing you’re where you should be, is there? ’
‘Err, no. You’re right.’
She was rather at a loss for words. He’d been positively poetic. She hadn’t had him down as someone who’d appreciate the niceties of bedding.
It was his turn to look faintly embarrassed.
‘Anyway… As I said, Dolly is progressing ahead of schedule.’
It was back to business. No more talk of different words for attraction or super comfy beds. Every now and then there were glimpses of the person behind the white coat, but then they’d slip away again, and she wasn’t sure if she’d imagined them.
‘So…’
He paused while he put Bruce back on the floor.
What was he going to suggest next? That they compare washing powders?
‘I think we should start up our patrols again. It’s been quiet these last few days, but you never know what these people could be planning.’
Vicky nodded several times. ‘Definitely up for that.’ She glanced up at the clock. ‘But I’ve got to go now. I’m meeting someone in a minute.’
She gave Dolly a last stroke through the bars and bent to ruffle the fur on Bruce’s head.
‘Come on, Bruce, out! You know you’re not supposed to be in here.’
Bruce gave her a disgusted look and stalked out of the open door.
‘I’m off too.’
Alex walked towards the door as well, his bearing not dissimilar to the cat’s.
Vicky gave them both a small wave goodbye.
‘One last wash of the hands, and I’ll be straight after you. Planning to eat pastries in a minute.’
‘Of course you are.’
Alex smiled as he went out. He really could be infuriating at times.