Dr. Mac checks Cuddles all over. “Feeling for any lumps or bumps,” she says. Then she turns her over on her arm and looks at her belly, scent glands near her bottom, and genital area. “All clean, no urine burn or caked-on feces.”
I’m surprised that Cuddles is behaving so well. I guess Dr. Mac really does know animals!
Dr. Mac weighs her next and pets her. “Cuddles, you are one sweet little rabbit, and you have a clean bill of health.” She looks up at me and smiles. “Do you have any questions, Jules?”
“What happens when she is spayed? Will it hurt her?”
“We’ll use a combination of premedication and gas anesthesia so she will be relaxed and won’t be in any discomfort during the surgery. We’ll shave her abdomen and wash her with a skin disinfectant. Afterward she’ll feel a little tender while she heals and may want to hide away a bit more than usual. Just make sure that she begins to eat and drink within twenty-four hours. Rabbits have a sensitive digestive system and need to keep a balance of good bacteria in it. So they need to eat and digest right away.”
“When will her surgery be? And will she have to stay here overnight?” I ask.
“I can do the surgery Friday. Can you bring her here Friday morning before you go to school?”
“Yes,” I say, petting Cuddles. I hope Dad or Josh or Mom can come with me.
“I can perform her surgery in the morning. She’ll be a little groggy afterward, but post-op we will keep her warm and comfortable and she will be fine in a few hours. As long as you can create a calm, quiet atmosphere for her to recuperate in at home, she can go home with you later Friday afternoon.”
“Is it okay for her to eat before the surgery?”
“Yes, give her food and water as usual. Rabbits cannot vomit like other animals.”
“They can’t?” I ask.
Even Sunita looks surprised.
“That’s right,” Dr. Mac says. “Because rabbits can’t vomit, there is no reason to withhold food and water. Remember, it’s important to watch her after surgery to make sure that she is eating, drinking, and eliminating.”
“Are you sure she’ll be okay?” I ask. All of a sudden, Cuddles looks so small and vulnerable sitting there on the big towel atop the metal exam table.
Dr. Mac nods. “I know it’s hard not to worry, but I’ve spayed rabbits many times, always with a good outcome. Cuddles should be just fine in a day or two.”
Sunita says, “She’s in good hands with Dr. Mac.”
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll bring her in Friday morning before school.”
Sunita walks with me as I bring Cuddles’s cage back to the waiting room, where Josh and David are hanging out.
“All done?” Josh asks. “Everything okay with Cuddles?”
“Yes,” I say. “Thanks again, Sunita.”
“You’re welcome,” she says.
“You guys going?” David asks. “I’ll walk with you.”
“Wait for me, too,” Sunita says. “I just have to hang up this flyer for Stream Cleanup Day. Are you going?”
“Oh yeah,” David says. “I wouldn’t miss it. Plus, they’re planning a barbecue lunch afterward. Hello, roasted hot dogs. I’ll be there.”
“Bye, Dr. Mac,” Sunita calls out. “We’re all leaving.”
Dr. Mac comes out of the Dolittle Room to say good-bye. “Thanks, Sunita, thanks, David. The kittens look great. You too, Josh. Thanks.”
I wish I could have helped out with the kittens, too. “Hey, Josh,” David says as we exit the clinic. “Do you want to bike to the stables with me on Saturday morning before Stream Cleanup? I’m sure we can find you an extra pair of boots there, too, if you need them.”
“Great,” Josh says. “Thanks. Count me in.”
Sunita’s mom is there to pick her up. She waves good-bye.
I can’t even wave because I’m using both hands to carry Cuddles, so I just say, “Bye.”
“You know, Josh,” David says, as we walk down the street, “I could ask my mom if you could stay over Friday night and if we could set up my tent in the backyard. Have a little campout, toast some marshmallows, or whatever.”
“That’d be cool,” Josh says.
“Okay, then, let me ask my mom, and I’ll let you know at school tomorrow,” David says.
“Thanks for letting me tag along to Dr. Mac’s,” Josh says.
“Sure,” says David. “See you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow,” Josh replies.
Great, just great. Josh has a friend and is getting invited all over the place. And he’s helping Dr. Mac. He’s probably already a full-fledged Vet Volunteer as far as I know. And me? I can’t even volunteer at the shelter. No one is inviting me anywhere. Maggie hates me and doesn’t want me anywhere near the clinic. She probably doesn’t want me at Stream Cleanup Day, either. Not only that, but Brenna probably only invited me to Stream Cleanup Day so she could see my “adorable brother.”
At least I have Cuddles. When I get home, I’m going to make her the best bunny castle ever, with cardboard boxes, tubes, and ramps.
• • • • •
After dinner, Sophie shows me the cardboard house she decorated with markers.
“Look,” she says. “I drew carrots and a rainbow and me! And here is Cuddles hopping. And I drew her sleeping. See, her eyes are closed. And here she is pooping. Ha. Ha. Ha. See the poop?”
“Nice job, Sophie,” I say. It’s true that Cuddles poops a lot. Luckily, she uses her litter box, so the cleanup is easy. I cut doors and windows in the box and add a round hole to poke through the long cardboard tube I found earlier in the store. Josh and Sophie bring me more empty boxes from our move.
When Mom is out of the room, Josh empties a container of oatmeal into a plastic bag and brings me the empty cylindrical oats container. “Here’s another tunnel or hidey hole,” he says. I begin assembly in our room with Cuddles watching curiously from her cage.
Josh hangs out in our room, giving me all kinds of advice. “Put that ramp on the other side.”
An hour later, Cuddles has the best Cuddles Castle ever, if I do say so myself. And she loves it. She’s out of her cage, sniffing and exploring her many-roomed, odd-looking cardboard castle. It has plenty of openings, ramps, tunnels, hidey holes, and peekaboo windows.
“She’s peeking out the window.” Sophie giggles. “Look, look, now she’s on top of her castle!”
Cuddles is so cute hopping all over and around her castle, through the tunnels and windows, and poking her head in and out. Josh is stretched out on the floor, encouraging and petting her. Cuddles is too happy and curious to sit still for much petting. Sophie lies on my bed laughing and clapping. I sit on the floor nearby to make sure Cuddles does not chew on any books or cords or anything bad, but she is so busy, she forgets all about chewing the wrong things. Leah at the shelter was right about bored bunnies. I’m glad she gave me so many ideas for easy, safe activities to keep Cuddles active and happy. Plus, Cuddles is so much funnier and friskier than she used to be.
“Funny bunny, funny bunny!” Sophie laughs.
Mom knocks on the door and pokes her head in. “Sounds like I’m missing all the fun,” she says. “What’s all the giggling about?” She looks at Sophie laughing at Cuddles’s silliness. Mom is smiling now, too, standing inside the closed door so Cuddles doesn’t escape. “My, what a snazzy dream house she has.”
“Yeah,” Josh says. “Jules has a future in bunny architecture.”
“I think you’re right,” Mom says. “And speaking of your future, does anyone have any homework?”
“Just a little,” Josh says. “I’ll do it in here.”
“Me too,” Sophie and I say in unison.
And we do, while Cuddles hops around exploring. She finally flops down on her side nex
t to me and lets me pet her. Mom has already left, and I wish she could see how sweet Cuddles is when she’s had plenty of exercise, but I don’t want to disturb or move her. So I just pet her and I’m so happy that she’s content. Tomorrow I’ll look for a phone book and some other things to keep her occupied. But for now—all is well. Mom seems to like Cuddles. Just a few more days and she will be convinced that Cuddles can stay. Maybe moving to Ambler will turn out okay after all.
Chapter Fifteen
On Thursday, I still try to avoid Maggie on the bus ride to school. Josh is best buddies with David now, so my former strategy of sitting with my twin is shot. Josh jabbers away with David as we get on the bus, then they both pretty much forget all about me. So I sit by myself behind the bus driver. I wish Sunita took the same bus to school.
At lunch I go to the library for Brenna’s Save Our Streams meeting. The library is so packed with people, students are sitting on the tables and floor. It’s way too crowded, so I have to stand in the back. Mr. Hart calls the meeting to order and says that the whole school will be studying ecology and water systems in the next month. Then he introduces Brenna Lake.
Everyone claps. I hear David off to the side making some dumb joke about why Brenna Lake is cleaning up a stream and not a lake. David gets a few chuckles, but most everyone, including Brenna, ignores him. Brenna asks for the lights to be turned down and shows slides of all kinds of local wildlife at the Gold Hill Nature Preserve, where she lives with her family. The lights come back on, and she stands at the podium and asks the students to help out at the community-wide Save Our Streams Cleanup Day on Saturday.
“Last year we had over fifty volunteers,” Brenna says. “In just half a day, we collected fifty-seven bags of trash, three tires, various car parts, and an old washing machine out of the stream. This year we hope to at least double the number of volunteers and clean up an even longer stretch of stream. We’ll sort the junk we collect from the stream and recycle all the plastic, glass, metal, and aluminum. We really want to get the message out to keep our streams clean. Here’s why.”
Brenna holds up a big photo of a duck with its neck stuck in a plastic six-pack ring. It’s hard to look at. Next she shows a beaver tangled in fishing line and a baby raccoon with its head stuck in a dirty glass jar. It makes me feel sick to my stomach to see these injured animals. I’m not the only one who feels that way. There are gasps and silence.
“At the wildlife center, we see so many injured animals. Birds and foxes and other animals end up eating all kinds of dangerous things that people have left behind. Like the defenseless little raccoon I showed you with its head stuck in a jar. They can’t get themselves free, and sometimes they die of starvation. Innocent animals are trapped, injured, suffocate, and die because of plastic bags, fishing line, and plastic six-pack rings. I’ve seen birds and mammals with cuts on their feet from broken glass. It has to stop. Our local wildlife is depending on us for clean, safe, and unpolluted water. So who can help us clean the stream this Saturday?”
Everyone’s hand goes up, including mine.
“Great,” Brenna says. “Stream Cleanup Day is just a beginning. When we’re done for the day, we’ll report back in the newspaper and on our new blog to make people aware of recycling and how to prevent polluting our streams.”
Wow, she has it all planned out.
“I have sign-up sheets for general volunteers, sorters, photographers, and reporters. And we’re still looking for businesses to donate snacks and drinks. Can anyone think of anything else we need?”
Before I realize what I’m doing, my hand shoots up and Brenna nods to me. “Yes?” she asks.
I hate speaking in front of big groups of people. But this is important. “It sounds like you are going to need lots of garbage bags,” I stammer.
“Yes,” Brenna says. “In fact, last year we ran out and were scrambling at the last minute.”
“Well, what if each of us brings some garbage bags from home and we ask our neighbors and local businesses to donate, too? I bet my parents would donate some from their store.”
“Great idea, Jules!” Brenna says, and writes it down on her notepad. “Who thinks they can bring bags, and who wants to try to ask some local businesses to donate?”
More kids raise their hands, and Brenna writes down their names. I’m surprised at myself for raising my hand and speaking up in such a large group, but proud that Brenna liked my idea.
And now I know Brenna didn’t just invite me because she thinks Josh is cute. It sounds like she needs a lot of help. Plus, it sounds fun. I’ll ask Dad if the store can donate some garbage bags and maybe help with other recycling plans.
“We start at nine o’clock Saturday morning,” Brenna shouts out over everyone’s excitement. “Wear boots or waders and gloves,” she says. “Please take more flyers with you and tell your neighbors, families, and friends.”
So far Sunita is my only potential friend, and she already knows about Stream Cleanup Day. But I take a few flyers anyway and sign up as a general volunteer. I set the clipboard down. I want to talk to Brenna and tell her how excited I am to participate, but she is surrounded by other kids wanting to talk to her, too.
I wait a few minutes and finally get closer to the desk where she has her photos, notes, and more clipboards. There are more sign-up sheets with all the slots filled. And on the top of another page of “GENERAL VOLUNTEERS” in bright blue letters is the name Maggie MacKenzie. My stomach flip-flops. At first I think of switching to another job or not going to Stream Cleanup Day at all, but I refuse to be afraid of Maggie. Maybe she doesn’t want me anywhere near her grandma’s clinic, but she can’t keep me from going to the stream, helping animals, and making new friends like Brenna and Sunita.
Finally it’s my turn to talk to Brenna. “Hi again,” I say, kind of nervous, but determined. “I just want to tell you I’m behind you one hundred percent. I’ll be there on Saturday. If you need help with anything else before then, just call. My phone number is on the sign-up.”
“Great,” Brenna says. “Thanks for getting involved. I’ll see you on Saturday.”
• • • • •
After school, Josh takes off for David’s house. I’m so happy I got through the day without any more incidents with Maggie. We played basketball in gym again, but thankfully she and I ended up on different teams and played in different games.
At home, I check on Cuddles, pet her, and feed her some greens and apples. She loves apple slices. Sophie wants to help, too, filling the water bottle, making sure Cuddles is safe while I clean the cage, and feeding her more apple slices. Sophie also wants to pick up Cuddles and carry her back to the cage, but I tell her that’s my job. Instead, I show her how to latch the cage shut so Cuddles can’t get out. That seems to satisfy Sophie for now.
Sophie goes to the kitchen to do her homework with Mom. Dad comes in and says, “I’ve got another shipment coming in after the weekend, and I need to make room for more stock. I’m ready to tackle the basement cleanup, but I need some helpers. Any volunteers?”
Josh and I both chip in. The basement is huge, and I can’t wait until we have it all cleaned up so we can set up a family workshop down there.
Josh and I take armful after armful of cardboard boxes to the recycling bin behind the store. Before I dump each load, I scrounge around a bit for anything that would make interesting additions to Cuddles’s castle. I also check for the stray tabby in the alley behind the store, but there is no sign of him. We’re probably making too much noise.
Dad lets me hang a flyer for Stream Cleanup Day in the store window, even though the store won’t open for another two weeks. He says he’d be happy to donate garbage bags and maybe he’ll even have time to volunteer on Saturday morning.
“It’d be a good way to help out and get to know members of the community,” Dad says. I agree—it’ll be great to have Dad
there, especially if Josh is hanging out with David and ignoring me.
After dinner, Josh is in our room again. Sophie decorates the outside walls of Cuddles’s castle with more flowers and butterflies. Sophie is a little calmer today and so is Cuddles. Even Josh notices.
“Cuddles is not only behaving herself,” he whispers to me, “but your newly tamed rabbit is going to help tame our sister, too. Sophie will be easier to babysit now that we have Cuddles to distract and entertain her.”
“I know,” I reply. “Did I tell you Mr. Hart called me the bunny whisperer? Because no one else had been able to pet Cuddles.”
Josh laughs. “Yep, you’re the bunny whisperer all right. What have I been telling you? You have a sixth sense.”
Josh commenting on my Animal Sense makes me feel good. He sits at my desk and watches as I add another cardboard room with rounded windows and doors to Cuddles’s castle. I use Sophie’s markers and write CUDDLES above the biggest door in fancy lettering.
Cuddles goes from calm to frisky again, hopping around exploring her new addition, stopping to groom her face and whiskers, then energetically sniffing and hopping again. I didn’t find a phone book yet, but Cuddles loves the toilet paper roll I made her with a carrot inside and a little hay stuck in both ends. She is so adorable and funny, chewing and throwing the cardboard roll around until she finally gets the carrot inside. Sophie keeps drawing tons of pictures of Cuddles doing all kinds of things and hanging them in our room. Hopping, hiding, exploring, sleeping, sniffing, and pooping.
“You’ve got quite a gallery of bunny art, Sophie,” Josh says, studying all her drawings.
“I know,” she says, beaming a Sophie-sized smile. “I’m an artist.”
Cuddles does a funny hop and high leap that looks makes her look like she’s dancing.
I’m so glad we got her. Josh and Sophie are, too. And so far, no complaints from Mom or Dad. I think we’ll complete our one-week trial period no problem.
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