Chapter Fifteen
Reid
It's been an entire week since my little bathroom rendezvous with Caroline and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.
The only problem is, I haven’t seen or heard from her, nor do I even have a way to contact her if I wanted to.
Do I want to? Did this mean anything to her or was I just a drunken mistake that she’s already moved on from again?
I push the thoughts aside, as I roll out of bed and throw on my blue scrubs. It’s earlier than I’d like to be up, but I’m clearly not going back to sleep.
Poppy is back at the shelter while we look for a home, as some space has finally opened up.
It’s oddly quiet here now that I’ve gotten used to being woken up by her tiny screams. I grab my white coat and head out the door, with plans to stop at the gas station for a donut and energy drink on the way in.
I’m the first to the clinic this morning and look forward to the slow start by myself.
Unlocking the front glass doors and flicking on the lights, I head to the back to sit at my desk.
Cracking open the sugar-free Redbull so I can wake up, I log into the computer to catch up on some charting.
As I work through the files, a cynical thought hits me.
I know this violates some sort of regulations, but I quickly reroute my thinking.
I double click on Poppy’s chart, to see if she’s still next door.
She appears to still be available for adoption.
I check the clinical notes to verify her medication updates, all looks good there as well.
And then… I continue to make my way down the tabs to the ‘Contact Information’ on the drop off form.
And there it is, right in front of my face… taunting me. Caroline’s phone number.
I don’t realize I’m in a daze until Martha is standing over me. “Good morning, Doc. Fancy seeing you here before the rest of us.” I’m hoping she doesn’t notice whose chart I have pulled up, much less the details of it.
“Yeah, I couldn't sleep so I figured I may as well put my insomnia to good use.” I respond in a nonchalant manner.
“Ah, so you needed to come check on… Poppy?” She smirks in a sly tone, leaning over my shoulder. Damn, busted.
“Yeah I kind of miss her I guess, I’m not sure why she hasn’t found a home yet.” I’m trying to sound innocent, but unsure of which ‘her’ I’m talking about at this point.
“Well, we know how it goes with FIV positive cats. It scares a lot of people away, regardless of how cute the kitten is.” She changes her inflection and glances away, heading back towards the front desk.
It would be easy to close out now and move on, but my right pointer finger lingers over the mouse button for far too long.
I decide to disguise my reach out, as a professional manner.
Typically, these are done via phone call by Martha or Amanda, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?
I quit hesitating and pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and plugged her number in.
“Hello - is this Caroline Baker?” I send off the text and close my eyes, leaving the details open-ended in hopes of better response odds.
I plan to stand up and move on with my day, not sitting here lingering over if she will respond or not. But to my surprise, my phone vibrates right away.
“This is Caroline. Who is this?” Okay, confirmation is good… The gate for communication is open. But let’s not shut it down too fast.
“Hi Caroline. This is Dr. Perry’s office over at Melwood Views Vet Clinic.
We are reaching out about the kitten you brought in.
We’ve gotten her fixed and ready to go to her new home.
She did test positive for Feline Immunodeficiency Virus, so we recommend she be an only cat and we require that all of our animals remain indoor pets.
However, it should not affect her quality of life and is not contagious to humans or other animals during casual interactions.
Being the one who brought her to the shelter, you get the first opportunity for adoption so we wanted to reach out and see if you would be interested in bringing her home? ”
Too much? Unsure, but it’s true that we typically offer our fosters and individuals reporting animals the priority option to adopt.
And with the FIV, it tends to scare our current pet owners away, even though we don’t require seclusion.
Again, I’m playing the small fib game of what they don’t know won’t hurt them, especially by not actually saying it’s me that’s doing the reaching out.
“Dr. Perry! Your first appointment is here!” Amanda yells back and makes me realize just how long I’ve been sitting here. Now I really do tuck my phone away and leave it in my desk drawer to get on with the day, without further distractions.
“Put them in room 1 please and I’ll be right there!” I yell back, logging out of the system and pushing back in the rolling desk chair.