Wow. I seriously never expected such a response. I've rewritten this chapter three times and finally figured it was time to just post it. It definitely is not a favorite and kind of rambles, but bare with me--this story's just gettin started! :-) -Bri
The cell phone for the office rang beside me, a.lerting me to another emergency. Silently cursing the animal who had interrupted my sleep I answered gruffly. “Allison Baker.”
The voice that answered me was close to tears. “My dog was hit by a car and” –the words trailed off into a sob and I pulled myself into work mode, realizing, for the umpteenth time, just how much I loved every aspect of my job…except the one that included getting up at 3am to go save an animal in need.
Sighing, I asked the inevitable question. “Sir, is your dog alive?”
“I think so.” The sobs became sniffles as he waited for my answer. I ran over my options as I climbed out of bed, stripping off my sweat pants and pulling on jeans, holding the phone in between my shoulder and ear.
“Then that means we have a fighting chance.” I explained, turning the phone onto speaker as I pulled a button-up shirt over my tank-top and situated my trusty lab coat on top. After getting the rest of the story and having the owner describe his dog’s injuries, I quickly woke up Skylar, pulling her out of her bed, grinning at the Cinderella pajamas she wore. “Come on, Sky.” I begged, fastening her into her car seat. “I need you to be my helper again.” She mumbled an agreement waking up slightly as I backed out of the driveway.
We arrived at the clinic just after they did and I sent Skylar running to open the clinic and pull out my supplies(anesthesia, bandages, my stethoscope, the norm.) as I surveyed the dog in front of me.
There was no denying he was a mess. ‘Duke’ was a big bloodhound and he was limp with pain as I pulled him into my arms racing for the door that Skylar held open. After Duke’s owners, Skylar and I had piled into an exam room, I realized how hurt this dog was. On the initial glance over I hadn’t seen any visible wounds, but as I explored his chest area and he cried out, I knew something much deeper was going on. Probing gently, I noticed the odd rhythm of his heart and how it seemed to be a little faster than normal. Dismissing it as average I continued with the examination.
Skylar was watching the dog closely as well as keeping the stethoscope in her ears, which meant she was the first to notice when the dog suddenly jerked and his heart went crazy. She, wasting no time, grabbed my hand, resting it just above his heart so I could feel it pounding wildly. My instincts went into emergency mode as I felt the adrenaline hit my veins. The only time I ever felt such a rush was when…well…yeah, I’m not going there. Yanking open a drawer, I shed the cover over the needle and plunged it into the bottle of anesthesia, drawing out enough to knock the dog out for several hours. Handing it to Skylar I allowed her to administer the drug as I ran an IV catheter into the leg, taping it close and setting up the drip to start filling his body with fluid, desperate to keep him hydrated. Duke’s owners looked close to tears, their little boy bawling and his mother barely holding back as they realized the severity of the situation. Exchanging a glance with Skylar, she instantly shooed the family out of the room into the empty waiting room, then raced back to me. My breath caught as the dog’s heart suddenly stopped and I glanced at the clock on the wall, timing my pushes on his chest to every two seconds as I attempted to get his heart started again. As I punched on the dog’s rib cage, cursing under my breath, I pointed to a bottle in the cabinet with my other and Skylar got it down, drawing out the amount I indicated. After I got his heart pumping again, I started running tests, desperate to save the life that lay in my hands.
Forty-five minutes, five complete body x-rays, and an ultrasound later, I was making the speech that no vet ever wants to make to their patient’s family.
“Is that our only option?” The woman asked, tears pooling in her big blue eyes as her son sobbed into his father’s shirt. Duke lay on the exam table, looking completely out-of-it and their teenage daughter who had joined them was petting his head and murmuring softly. I was trying not to look at her after I had seen that she was wearing a Jonas Brothers t-shirt—naturally.
“I’m afraid so.” I ran my tongue across my lips, pointing to the x-rays that I had set up, showing them the internal bleeding and broken rib cage. “With just those injuries alone it’d be extremely hard for him to recover, but with these” –my finger ran over the image of his pelvis, showing the hip that had shattered. “It’s going to be almost impossible.”
Their daughter looked up at me. “Can you keep him alive?” As if realizing how cruel her words sounded, she rushed to amend them. “I mean, if Duke were your dog, would you?”
And here it was—the ultimatum that almost every client facing euthanasia presented. I forced myself to be brutally honest, knowing it was what they needed to hear. “No, I wouldn’t.” Skylar didn’t look surprised, she knew a lost case when presented with one; Duke’s family on the other hand looked broken—and I understood the feeling completely.
Finally, after a long silence, the man spoke, his deep voice rumbling through the room. “Put him down.” The tears that the woman had tried to force back escaped and slid down her cheeks.
Skylar and I slipped out of the room, giving the family time to say their good-byes. I sat down in front of the computer, pulling her into my lap as she cuddled close.
“Does putting dogs down hurt, Mama?” Skylar asked shrewdly, looking at me.
I considered my answer for a minute, running my hand through my hair, twisting a strand around my index finger, some of the hair getting caught on the gold ring I wore, the inside scripted with Skylar’s name and birthdate: Skylar Leigh Baker 12/18/2019. The ring meant the world to me as it was a combined present from my parents, Skylar, Amy, Julie and Terra that had been given on my birthday the year previously.
“I think it does a little, Sky.” I continued thoughtfully. “I wish that it didn’t, but at the same time, it doesn’t hurt because I know it’s the right thing.”
When my daughter replied, it was with an answer wise beyond her years. “But should the right thing hurt? If it’s the right thing I mean.”
I was close to tears, my hand resting on my stomach- the bump from my –our- baby barely visible through my coat, the wind blowing my hair back as I walked across the campus. “I’m really sorry, but the separation…you just have to trust me.”
Nick’s voice was choked and I could feel the hot tear running down my cheek at his pain. “Is this the right thing?”
The hurt and guilt that ripped through me at his words was physically painful, yet I forced the words out anyway. “Yes.”
“Bye Allie.” The dial tone was soft and quiet in my ear as we simultaneously walked away from one of—quite possibly the greatest—relationship of our lives. Barely five seconds later, I already missed him.
