by Ellen Miles
“That’s where he hurts,” Lizzie said.
Dr. Gibson nodded. “Yes, it is.” She continued to touch the puppy very gently, moving the leg carefully. “It’s hard to say what’s wrong,” she said. “There’s no blood or scar, so it’s possible he was even born this way. Either way, he’s probably been living with this injury for a while. He’s small, but he’s not as young as you’d think. He’s undernourished.” She laid both hands on the puppy. “We’re done, sweetie. Let’s get you cozied back up in your blankets and hooked up to some fluids.” She pressed an intercom button and asked her vet tech to come in to help start an IV.
“We’ll shave his front leg just a little, then put a needle there so we can give him some fluids through a line,” Dr. Gibson explained. “It’s the best way to help him feel better in a hurry. He can rest while that’s happening, and we can figure out our next steps.”
“Won’t that hurt him?” Lizzie’s heart ached for the little guy. She was dying to cuddle and pet him, but she knew she would have to wait.
“Only a tiny bit for a moment,” said Dr. Gibson. “Gloria is very good at this.” She smiled at the young woman who had come into the room, wheeling a stand that held a bag of clear liquid with a long plastic line coming out of it.
“I want to be a vet when I grow up,” said Harper. She stepped closer for a better view.
Lizzie had often thought about being a vet, too. But she discovered that she didn’t really want a closer look. She watched as Gloria used an electric clipper to shave the puppy’s leg. But she had to look away when the tech picked up the needle. It was just like back at Caring Paws, the way Harper stepped up when Lizzie froze. Why was she acting so hesitant?
Ms. Dobbins put her arm around Lizzie. “It’s hard to watch,” she said, squeezing Lizzie’s shoulder. “But it really will make him feel better.”
“What about his hurt leg?” Lizzie asked Dr. Gibson. “Can you fix it?”
The vet shook her head as she pulled off her gloves. “I don’t think so, Lizzie.”
Lizzie’s heart fell. The poor little puppy.
“But I know someone who might be able to,” Dr. Gibson went on. “My friend Josephine is one of the best animal surgeons in the area. I’ll give her a call.”
“A surgeon?” Lizzie asked. “You mean—Sparky might have to have an operation?”
Dr. Gibson nodded. “Yes. It would be worth it if Dr. Jo can make Sparky’s leg work right again.”
“And if not?” Ms. Dobbins asked.
Dr. Gibson raised her eyebrows. “Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it,” she said.
Lizzie had the feeling that there was something the vet did not want to discuss in front of her and Harper. She wanted to tell Dr. Gibson that they could take it, that she could say anything in front of them, but there was also a part of her that didn’t want to hear it. Whatever it was, it was super serious. Lizzie could see that, plain as anything, on Dr. Gibson’s face.
“I’m guessing Dr. Jo won’t be able to see him until tomorrow, so we’ll keep the puppy here tonight,” said Dr. Gibson. “I want to keep giving him fluids and also try to feed him something. He’s so skinny! We have to beef him up so he looks more like a nice pudgy puppy.” As she spoke, she cradled the puppy in her arms. “Isn’t that right, Sparky?” she asked in a funny squeaky voice.
The puppy cocked his head and blinked, then let his mouth fall open in a wide doggy grin. Lizzie even saw that he was doing his best to wag his tail, but he seemed too weak to really make it move.
You bet! I’m totally up for whatever.
Lizzie’s eyes filled with tears. This puppy was so spunky! “I think you picked the perfect name for him,” she said to Dr. Gibson. She knew that the vet was trying to lighten things up, which was a good idea. Sparky needed all the good energy they could send his way.
“Will—will he be a little stronger by tomorrow?” asked Harper.
Lizzie could see that Harper was upset. She was frowning and biting her lip. Lizzie noticed that Harper’s fingers were crossed, wishing the best for Sparky. Lizzie got it. She felt the same, and had both her fingers and her toes crossed.
“Definitely. I guarantee it,” said Dr. Gibson. “He just needs some food, some water, and some rest.” She walked closer to Lizzie and Harper, carrying Sparky. “Want to give him a little pet before I get him settled for the night?”
Lizzie stroked his tiny head with one finger. “Night-night, Sparky,” she whispered.
Harper touched his front paw. “Sleep tight,” she said.
Then Ms. Dobbins knelt down and stroked the puppy all over, very gently and slowly. Lizzie saw Sparky’s eyelids close, then blink open again. He definitely needed some sleep. When Ms. Dobbins stood up, she wiped the tears out of her eyes. “We’ll see you first thing tomorrow, you little peanut,” she said.
Lizzie had heard Ms. Dobbins talk to a lot of dogs. She did it all the time, in the kennels or the exercise yard at the shelter. But she’d never heard her talk like this, so softly and lovingly. She put her hand on Ms. Dobbins’s arm. “He’ll be okay,” Lizzie said.
Ms. Dobbins pulled out a tissue and blew her nose. “I know,” she said, nodding to Lizzie—and to Harper, who was patting her other arm. “Okay, girls. Let’s get you home. It’s time to say good night to Sparky.”
“Good night, pal,” said Harper.
“See you tomorrow, Sparky,” said Lizzie.
“We know he couldn’t be in better hands,” Ms. Dobbins said to Dr. Gibson. “Thanks so mu-mu-much.” She was starting to cry again. Lizzie and Harper guided her out the door. They stood outside for a moment, until they all stopped crying. Then Ms. Dobbins led them to the car. She shook her head as she pulled out of the parking lot a few moments later. “This is one of the reasons why I don’t have a dog of my own,” she said. “There are times when it’s just too—too—”
“Sad?” Harper asked.
“Scary?” Lizzie suggested.
“Heartbreaking,” said Ms. Dobbins. Lizzie saw her bite her lip to keep from crying. Then Ms. Dobbins took a deep breath and put on a smile. “But Dr. Gibson has a lot of experience, and I bet she’s right. I’m sure Sparky will look and feel a ton better tomorrow.”
“Me, too,” said Harper.
“Me, three,” said Lizzie. She knew they were all pretending a little bit, but so what? It was good to be optimistic. “You know,” she added, “I’ve helped take care of a lot of sick puppies and injured puppies, and I’ve never seen one that had as much spirit as Sparky.”
Ms. Dobbins nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right,” she said slowly. “He really is a fighter, in the best sense. He’ll be just fine.”
“Yeah, Sparky! Go, Sparky!” Harper punched her fist in the air like she was rooting for her favorite team.
Ms. Dobbins pulled the car up in front of Lizzie’s house. “First stop,” she said. “Tell your mom I’m sorry you’re late for dinner.”
Lizzie unbuckled, said good-bye to Harper, and got out of the car, then leaned back in for a moment before she shut the door. “And you’ll pick me up first thing tomorrow when you go to see Sparky?” she asked.
Ms. Dobbins nodded and smiled. “Of course,” she said. “Try not to worry. Remember, Dr. Gibson says Dr. Jo is the best. We’re in good hands.”
Lizzie dropped her backpack in the front hall and ran straight into her mother’s arms. “Aw, honey,” her mom said, stroking her back. “Hard day at the shelter, huh?”
“He—he’s so little and so cute.” Lizzie was sobbing. She had held it together until now, but suddenly she couldn’t keep her tears back anymore.
“Come, tell me all about it.” Her mom took Lizzie’s hand and brought her into the living room. Lizzie sat on her mother’s lap—something she hardly ever did these days—and told her the whole story.
“Sparky sounds like an amazing pup,” said Mrs. Peterson, when Lizzie finished. “I bet he’s going to be just fine.” Mom hugged Lizzie tight. “Now, how about s
ome dinner? The rest of us already ate, but I saved plenty for you. Charles and Dad are in the den playing Uno, and the Bean is in bed.”
Lizzie realized she was starving. She sat down at the kitchen table and gulped down mashed potatoes and meat loaf as if she’d never seen food before. “I hope Sparky’s getting some food, too,” she said when she stopped long enough to talk.
Mom smiled. “Probably not meat loaf, but I’m sure they’re getting some nutrition into him. Now, how about if we run you a nice hot bath? Then you can get into your p.j.’s and maybe you and I can watch a movie together.”
The bath happened, and the p.j.’s, but by then Lizzie couldn’t keep her eyes open. “We’ll watch the movie tomorrow,” her mom said as she tucked her in.
“Tomorrow,” Lizzie mumbled, her eyes already closing. “And maybe Sparky’s leg will be fixed by then, too.”
* * *
When Lizzie first woke up, everything seemed normal. Buddy was curled in a soft, warm circle near her feet. Her blankets felt cozy. Sun streamed through her bedroom window, leaf-shaped shadows dappling the curtains. Lizzie yawned. She stretched. She sat up and gave Buddy a scritch right where he liked it, between his shoulder blades.
Then she remembered.
Sparky. She felt a pang of sadness, thinking of his adorable little foxy face and big shiny eyes as she had said good-bye the day before. Then she remembered the puppy’s upright ears and his attempts to wag his tail. She remembered his happy spirit, and she felt a surge of hope.
Lizzie pulled on jeans and a T-shirt, brushed her teeth for ten seconds, and ran down the stairs, with Buddy at her heels. “Mom,” she said as she burst into the kitchen. “I’ve been thinking!”
“So have I,” said her mom, hands on her hips. “I’ve been thinking that you need a good, solid breakfast this morning because it could be a long day.” She pointed to the kitchen table. “Sit,” she said. “I made waffles.”
Mom knew that Lizzie couldn’t resist waffles. “But Ms. Dobbins might be here any minute. And Buddy needs to go out.”
Mom nodded. “I know. I’ll take him out back. But you sit here and eat.”
Lizzie wanted to protest, but suddenly the unmistakable smell of waffles, doused in butter and maple syrup, wafted up into her nose. She looked down at the plate in front of her, picked up her fork, and dug in.
When Mom and Buddy came back in, Lizzie took her chance. “Mom, I wanted to ask you. If the puppy is allowed to go home after his surgery—well, he doesn’t have a home, really. So, we can foster him, right?”
“Oh, Lizzie,” said Mom. “That’s a big responsibility. We’ll have to talk to your dad about that idea.”
“Okay.” Lizzie nodded, smiling to herself. If her brother Charles hadn’t still been sleeping like a lazybones, he would have smiled back at her. They both knew that Dad always said yes to new foster pups. And Mom could never turn down someone in need. So, basically, it was a yes. Maybe she would be able to bring Sparky home that very day!
Lizzie dug happily back into her waffles. She was swallowing the last bite when she heard a car horn honk outside. “She’s here!” she said to her mom, pushing back from the table. “I have to go!”She grabbed her backpack and a jacket and headed for the front door. Then she stopped in her tracks, turned around, and dashed back into the kitchen to throw her arms around her mom. “Thanks for the waffles,” she said. In her mind, she added, And thanks for saying that we can foster Sparky!
She ran out the door and down the front walk and up to Ms. Dobbins’s car. She grabbed at the handle of the front passenger-side door before she realized that someone was already in that seat. Harper.
“Good morning!” sang out Harper, as Lizzie climbed into the backseat.
“Good morning,” Lizzie answered, a little less enthusiastically. Why did Harper have to come along again today? Lizzie had been picturing just herself and Ms. Dobbins taking Sparky to see the surgeon.
Ms. Dobbins nodded from the front seat. “Morning, Lizzie.”
She looked tired, and her clothes—the same blouse and pants she’d been wearing the day before—were wrinkled. She met Lizzie’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “I know, I’m not looking my best,” she said. “I went back and spent the night on a couch at Dr. Gibson’s, near the kennels. Didn’t want that poor little pup to wake up with nobody there.”
Lizzie was surprised. She’d never heard of Ms. Dobbins doing something like that before. “That’s good,” she said. “So how is he? How’s Sparky?”
Ms. Dobbins smiled. “He really is better, just like Dr. Gibson promised. You’ll see. But still, the little guy needs all the help he can get.” She met Lizzie’s eyes in the rearview mirror, and Lizzie got the message. If Harper wanted to help, that was a good thing.
“I brought him a toy,” said Harper, holding up a stuffed goose.
“Cute,” said Lizzie, wishing she had thought of that.
When they pulled up outside the vet’s office, Dr. Gibson was waiting for them. With Sparky! On a leash!
Lizzie snatched off her seat belt and pushed out of the car as soon as it stopped. “Wow,” she said. Sparky really did seem so much better than he had the day before. His eyes twinkled as he looked back at her. He limped down the front walkway, dragging his hurt leg along. Lizzie was surprised at how fast he could move. It seemed like his hurt leg wasn’t slowing him down that much.
Hi, friend! I remember you from yesterday, even though I was pretty out of it. Want to play?
“Incredible difference, isn’t it?” Dr. Gibson asked Lizzie. “I think he may have been limping that way all his life, but he manages pretty well. He basically just needed some water and some nutrition, and now he’s raring to go.”
“But we’re still taking him to the surgeon, right?” Lizzie asked, stooping down to give Sparky a pat. “He can’t limp around like this forever.”
“Absolutely, we’re taking him. In fact, he’s ready to go and so am I. Shall we?” She gestured back at the car. Ms. Dobbins and Harper hadn’t even gotten out yet.
Harper got into the backseat so Dr. Gibson could sit up front. As he had the day before, Sparky lay between the two girls on a nest of blankets. But unlike the day before, he was perky—paying attention to everything that happened inside and outside the car. When Lizzie petted him, he leaned over to put a paw on her leg and stretched up his neck to give her a kiss on the cheek. When Harper showed him the stuffed goose, he grabbed it in his teeth and gave it a little shake. Then he sat up on his blankets, ears and nose twitching, watching the scenery go by.
Wow, it’s a big world out here. Who knew?
Lizzie couldn’t stop smiling. Sparky was going to be okay after all. She could tell. And as long as Dad said yes—which she was sure he would—the chances were good that she and her family would be fostering him very soon.
Ms. Dobbins pulled up in front of a low, modern building. “This is it, right?” she asked Dr. Gibson.
“This is it,” said the vet. “And there’s Dr. Jo, waiting for us.” She waved at a woman dressed in green scrubs who stood in the doorway of the clinic. The woman waved back and came out to meet them.
“So this is our patient,” said the dark-haired woman. “What a cutie!”
Lizzie climbed out of the car with Sparky in her arms.
Dr. Jo reached out and Lizzie handed Sparky over. After the surgeon nuzzled him a bit and whispered some baby talk into his ear, she introduced herself, and they all told her their names. Then they followed her inside.
“I’ll do a quick exam while you’re here,” said Dr. Jo as she led them into a high-tech examining room with all sorts of fancy machines against the walls. “But we’ll need to keep him overnight in order to run some more tests and make a plan.”
Lizzie’s face fell. She realized now that she had been too optimistic to think she might be able to take Sparky home with her that night. But the most important thing was for him to get his leg fixed.
Dr. Jo set Sparky on her exam t
able, petting the tiny puppy gently to calm him. She used her stethoscope to listen to his heart and lungs, then looked into his ears and mouth, moving slowly and carefully. Finally, she touched him all over. He flinched, just as he had the day before, when she touched his back right leg. “Mm-hmm,” said Dr. Jo. She felt the leg all over, moving it this way and that, sometimes with her eyes closed. “Mm-hmm” she said again, when she stepped back. She pulled off her gloves, deep in thought.
Ms. Dobbins was biting her lip.
Harper was looking down at her feet.
Lizzie couldn’t take the silence anymore. “So what do you think?” she asked. “Can you make Sparky’s leg better?”
“We’ll see,” said Dr. Jo. “I promise I’ll do my best, if the X-rays and MRI show that the leg can be saved.” Then her face grew serious. “That’s kind of a big if,” she added, “from what I can tell from my physical exam.”
* * *
Nobody talked during the ride home. Ms. Dobbins’s car was silent as they thought about poor little Sparky. He’d been so cute when they said good-bye, blinking up at all of them with his twinkly eyes. It was like he was letting them know that everything would be okay.
Lizzie wanted to ask more about what would happen if Dr. Jo couldn’t fix Sparky’s leg, but she had a feeling she did not want to hear the answer, so she kept quiet. She decided to just wait and see what the surgeon had to say the next day. In the meantime, she’d be hoping for the best.
Lizzie, Harper, and Ms. Dobbins headed back to the surgeon’s office the next afternoon, eager to see Sparky and hear what Dr. Jo had to tell them. The surgeon had phoned Ms. Dobbins to say she had news, and Ms. Dobbins had picked Lizzie up right after school. Of course, Harper was in the car, too. Lizzie still wasn’t used to her being around all the time. Was Harper Ms. Dobbins’s new favorite? Lizzie tried not to worry about that. There were bigger things to worry about, like how Sparky was doing.