by Carol Ross
He blew out a breath and gave the back of his neck a firm squeeze. “You wouldn’t understand. Please get me out of this.”
“Well, okay... I can try. Unfortunately for you, you did a really good job of selling this volunteer thing. We’ve got people signed up and committed all over the place. And I told Dr. Frasier’s assistant that they had a volunteer showing up on Saturday. She was so grateful, said they really need someone. I’d do it for you, but I’m booked at the pool. I’ll try to find you a replacement, but in the meantime, you need to plan on showing up.”
* * *
MIA WAS ON her way to exam room two to treat a cat with an abscess when she heard what sounded like a whale in distress in the reception area. They didn’t officially treat whales, although she wouldn’t be surprised to see that someone had brought one in. In the short time she’d been working in Pacific Cove, well-meaning but overly concerned beachgoers had brought in an assortment of fledgling seabirds, an “injured” otter, and two “abandoned” baby seals. None of which had needed human intervention or medical treatment. It wasn’t uncommon for people to see a baby animal along the shore and mistake the absence of a parent for abandonment.
She rushed out to find Tiffany, the technician on duty, kneeling by what looked like a massive ball of tangled fishing line and debris with a dog inside. The whimper-moan coming from the black Lab wasn’t quite like anything she’d ever heard before.
Tiffany whispered, “Oh my God! This is crazy... Where do we even start?”
“We didn’t know what to do.” The young woman who had presumably brought the dog in was standing and fidgeting nervously nearby. “Dave and I were walking to the jetty to go fishing when we saw him. He was crying in pain and rolling around on the beach in this pile of fishing line and junk. I think there’s a fishhook in his mouth.”
There were a surprising number of hazards on the beach for dogs—rotten creatures to nibble on, sand and salt water to ingest, sharp objects to step on, debris to get tangled in—including fishing line and discarded fishhooks. She analyzed the tangle of line, grass, cloth, plastic and unidentifiable debris with a dog wrapped up in the middle. Why had no one thought to cut off all this junk? she wondered as she spoke in soothing tones to the poor dog. The line was so tightly wound around one paw he was holding it up off the ground. The whimpering slowed as his brown eyes focused on Mia and seemed to beg for help. He quieted as she gently touched him. Closer examination revealed there was indeed a treble hook stuck in his mouth, effectively keeping it closed and preventing him from being able to open his jaws more than about an inch.
She started to ask Tiffany to get some medication and scissors. “I need—”
That’s when a young man, a teenager—she realized his height had initially thrown her off—appeared by the dog’s side. He produced a Swiss Army knife and began snipping through the mess.
His brow creased in concentration, he began talking as he worked. “This fishing line is making it worse. It’s pulling on the hook.” He trimmed the line around his snout and instantly Mia could see some of the pressure was relieved. “Plus, I think it’s cutting off the circulation around his paw here.” As he snipped, the dog leaned against him as if grateful for the help.
“Tiffany, get me a syringe of Telazol. I need to sedate him. I’m not sure what it’s going to take to get this hook out.”
Tiffany went to get the medication while Charlotte showed up with another pair of scissors and handed them to Mia. Between her and the boy, they soon had the dog free of the line.
The boy held his head while Mia administered the shot. They waited, comforting the dog until he slowly collapsed into a puddle of velvety black fur and droopy eyelids.
“He’s in a happier place now,” Charlotte said. “Poor baby.”
“Do you want me to carry him somewhere?” the boy asked as he gently stroked the lab’s head.
“Yes, if you don’t mind. We’ll take him in the back through that door.” She pointed.
Tiffany reappeared. “Dr. Anthony said he can remove the hook if you want him to. He just finished another procedure, and he’s all ready to go.”
Mia wanted to do it herself, but she had a torn-up cat who’d been in a fight waiting. After that, she needed to interview the applicants for the new kennel assistant. Because school was almost out, they’d had a pile of applications from high school students seeking summer jobs. Charlotte had narrowed the field to four.
Mia led the way and let the surgical technician take over. The boy followed her back to the waiting room.
“Thanks so much for your help,” she told the teen. “I—”
She was interrupted as the girl who’d brought the dog in hurried forward. “How is he?”
“I think he’s going to be fine. I don’t know how much damage the hook has done. And we’ll want to watch out for infection. He’s not yours, I take it?”
She shook her head. “No, but I’d love to keep him if no one claims him. I called my parents and they already said yes. We have another dog at home. We lost our old Irish setter a few months back. My mom said she’d come in and talk to you.”
Mia felt a wave of appreciation toward these kind people. She instructed the girl to give the receptionist her contact information and turned to thank the young man. But he was gone.
“Where did he go? Was that young man with you?”
The girl shook her head. “No, I thought he was with you. The way he knew what to do and all, I figured he probably worked here.”
“Huh.” Mia took one last look around, let the girl know they’d be in touch, picked up the cat’s file and headed into the exam room.
The appointment went smoothly. The cat was a regular patient, current on vaccines, with no other health problems. She washed its wounds, dressed them and prescribed some medication.
Charlotte was waiting for her when she came out.
“They are all ready. I’ll send them into your office one at a time.”
“Do you have a favorite?” she asked. As office manager and unofficial HR person, she wanted Charlotte to have a say in who they hired.
“I do, but I want to see what you think before we talk about it.”
As far as Mia was concerned, kennel assistant was one of the most important jobs in the clinic. This person had the most one-on-one contact with the animals. The duties entailed walking the dogs, cleaning kennels and litter boxes, providing fresh water, and seeing to the basic comfort and cleanliness of the animals. She realized she might be slightly biased as she credited her first job as a kennel assistant with cementing her love for animals and establishing her career path. Because of her dad’s no-pet rule and her desire to be around animals, she’d started volunteering at animal shelters when she was fourteen. At sixteen, she’d landed her first job at a vet clinic. They’d been stationed in San Diego at the time.
“Okay, send them in.”
The first two candidates seemed adequate, the third was promising, but with the fourth applicant, she knew Charlotte had saved the best for last when the boy with the Swiss Army knife walked in.
Her face broke into a smile when she saw him. She shook his hand. “I’m so happy to see you again. I wanted to have a word with you, but you disappeared. Now I realize that Charlotte herded you away. Have a seat. I didn’t know you were here applying for a job.”
“Thank you. Yes,” he said, lowering himself into the chair across from her desk. “I need a job.”
“Well, I can’t think of a better way for you to get a feel for working at a vet clinic than to jump into the middle of an emergency. Thank you again for your quick thinking out there.”
He nodded like it was no big deal. “It seemed like the logical thing to do.”
“It was. Very logical.” She looked down for the name on his application. “So, Mr. Merrell, it says here you’
re only sixteen, but you have several job references listed. How long have you been working?”
“Officially, since I was fourteen. But I started babysitting, mowing lawns, watering plants, and walking dogs for my neighbors when I was about ten.”
This kind of initiative in someone so young was heartening. They spoke further about his work experience and what the job would entail. Finally, Mia said, “Well, I’m going to call a couple of these references because that’s what I have to do, but otherwise I’m ready to offer you a job. When can you start?”
“Now?”
“I suppose you already have, right?” She chuckled as he grinned. “I do like that enthusiasm, though. Today is Friday and I have a commitment tomorrow, so how about Monday? After school?”
“Oh, I’m not in school. I mean, I’m in school, but taking online classes right now. My schedule is really flexible.”
Mia was impressed, although she couldn’t help but wonder if it was need or ambition that had lit this kid’s fire. She’d noticed his worn tennis shoes and ratty backpack. These days, that wasn’t necessarily a sign of need. And yet there was both an eagerness and a maturity about him that suggested it and tugged on her heartstrings.
“Perfect. Then we’ll see you Monday morning at nine a.m. We’ll work out the hours after you get a feel for the job.”
The young man stood and extended a hand. “Thank you so much, Dr. Frasier. I won’t let you down.”
“You’re welcome, Levi, and thank you. Something tells me you won’t.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
JAY WAS FEELING more than slightly grumpy as he pulled into the parking lot of Pacific Cove Vet Clinic early on Saturday morning. He blamed Aubrey. Things only got worse when he walked inside to find Dr. Frasier. Only Dr. Frasier. Clicking away on a computer keyboard behind the counter, she glanced up. He nearly winced when he saw her face brighten. Exactly what he’d been afraid of—he didn’t want her to think he’d volunteered to get close to her.
“Hi, Jay,” she said with a smile. “Thanks so much for being here. I’ll be ready in a couple minutes.”
“Good morning.” He glanced around, looking for signs of life. He’d been hoping enough people would show up that he’d be able to get out of it and spend the day with Levi and Laney. Not that they needed him. They’d bought some paint the day before and had plans to paint Laney’s bedroom. The cabin had two bedrooms. The spare room already had a bed for the times when his siblings visited. Laney had moved into that one and he’d given Levi his room until he could get the loft stairs finished. He’d sleep on the sofa for now.
“Are the other volunteers not here yet? Did the day and time get messed up?”
“Nope, you’re it. Unfortunately, you’re my only volunteer today. Well, Charlotte will be here later to help process the cats we bring back.”
“Oh, um, uh...”
Looking away from the monitor, she met his gaze and held it. “Is there a problem?”
“Look, Mia, I’m going to be honest here—I accidentally got signed up for your cat thing. Aubrey signed me up without telling me what I’d be doing. She’s working on finding someone else but she said you needed someone today. So...” He trailed off with a shrug. “I guess it’s just me.” He immediately realized how much better that had sounded in his head.
The look of disappointment that flashed across her face made him feel about two inches tall. Especially when she composed her features, blinked a couple times and said, “Oh, I see. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. You can go. You don’t have to stay.”
“No, no. I’ll stay. I committed to this and you need help.” He paused, “Right?” He hoped she’d let him off the hook.
She continued studying him for a few long seconds, turning up his discomfort level several notches. He found himself shifting around on his feet like a nervous middle schooler.
“Yes,” she finally said. “Actually, I do. I’m glad you’re offering to follow through on the commitment you made because we’ve got a tough case today. I’ll admit I’m relieved I don’t have to tackle it myself. Although I would.”
“A tough stray cat case?” he asked skeptically, with more than a trace of sarcasm. He knew his bad attitude was probably shining through, but he didn’t really care. Playing with stray cats was not what he had in mind when he envisioned this volunteer program. Not when he could be helping troubled kids or building homes for the needy.
He watched her reaction; eyes narrowing, brow crinkling as if she was trying to decide if he was making fun of her.
“Yes,” she answered hesitantly. “Very tough. In fact, I would even say it’s a cat emergency.”
“A cat emergency?” He repeated the words with a chuckle.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she gave him a scowl that reminded him an awful lot of Aubrey. “Like I already mentioned, if you’re not up for it, you’re welcome to go. I’m getting the idea that you have plenty of other things you’d rather be doing with your time and that your offer to stay is out of your hyperinflated sense of duty.”
Hyperinflated sense of duty? Did he have that? Okay, maybe he did. “No, I’m fine. This won’t be my first cat rescue. I’ve plucked a few freaked-out felines off sinking ships in my time.” He added a grin that he hoped would de-escalate this growing conflict. It didn’t work.
Her scowl intensified to a glare. “You know what? I don’t have time to explain this to you but I also don’t appreciate you making fun of what I do. Sure, it might not be pulling people out of icy cold water or saving them from airplane crashes, but it is important.”
He scoffed. “I’m sure it is, but surely you can see it’s not as important as saving—”
He was going to say “people” but at that moment a woman came through the door, interrupting him. Jay was glad because the conversation was not going well. But he had made his point.
“Hey, Mia. Whose car... Oh.” She stopped and flashed Jay a wide, pretty smile as her sparkling brown eyes lit with what looked like appreciation and curiosity. “Hi, I’m Charlotte.”
“Charlotte,” Mia said in an overly bright tone, “this is Petty Officer Jay Johnston from the United States Coast Guard. Aren’t we so fortunate to have such an esteemed volunteer with us today? Even though Petty Officer Johnston has mysteriously and inadvertently signed up for this inauspicious tour of duty with Lucky Cats, he’s opting to stay and help. Isn’t it incredibly gracious of him?” she gushed sarcastically.
“That’s...yeah.” Charlotte’s gaze flickered from him to Mia and back to him again. “That’s wonderful.”
Deciding it would be best not to respond to Mia’s exaggerated albeit possibly deserved recap, Jay reached out a hand. “Hi, Charlotte. Nice to meet you. Please call me Jay. I seem to recall you’re the one who named Coastie?”
This produced a happy laugh. “Oh! Yes, I did. You’re Coastie’s new dad?”
“Foster dad,” he corrected. He watched Mia scowl again. For some reason, this whole ordeal was making him feel like kind of a jerk.
“Any luck locating family members who might take her?” Charlotte asked.
“Not yet,” Jay answered.
Mia turned her back to pick up a box, carried it out from behind the counter and set it on a bench.
“Well, you two should get going. I’ll be here to hold down the fort. Dr. Anthony is working for a few hours this morning.”
Charlotte plucked a slip of paper from the reception desk and handed it to Mia. “Here’s the number in case you need to call the police.”
The police? Jay thought that seemed a little dramatic, but he managed to keep that comment to himself.
“Thanks, Charlotte.” Mia tucked the number into her pocket and picked up the box again.
A half hour later he was no longer feeling like kind of a jerk. He was pretty sure h
e actually was the biggest jerk in the world.
* * *
MIA DROVE TO the end of Porpoise Point Road, Jay beside her in the passenger seat. He was different this morning from the charming guy she’d believed him to be. She was glad, she told herself as she steered the Lucky Cats van onto a narrow, graveled drive, the tires making a crunching sound as they bumped along the rutted path. She was feeling rather silly that she’d ever harbored the thought he’d signed up for this because of her. It was obvious that wasn’t the case. It did make this less awkward, at least, and even better, his attitude made him much less attractive.
A flash of black-and-white fur darted across the road in front of the car. A slower orange one followed. They pulled up in front of the modest ranch-style home painted dark blue with white trim.
“Here we go,” she said.
“Holy... Wow,” Jay said, his head turning left and right and back again. “Sorry,” he muttered, glancing over at her. “But this is a lot of cats.”
“Yes, it is. Hoarder,” Mia said, turning off the van’s engine.
The call had come in to the newly operational Lucky Cats line anonymously. Charlotte, who had taken the call and passed the message on to her, hoped the person was exaggerating when she said there were “a ton” of cats in and around the property. Mia could smell the stench as soon as she opened the van door. She counted thirteen cats before they even made it to the front porch.
They climbed the steps, dodging cats along the way. Some skittered away, while others meowed for attention. Most looked thin and sickly. Mia crouched to study a filthy cat bed that contained a pile of kittens. She estimated them to be no more than a few weeks old.
Jay knelt beside her. “Why are their ears black?”
“Ear mites,” she answered. She stood and tried to gauge the severity of the circumstances.
She was surprised when Jay picked up one tiny black-and-white kitten. Mia noted that its eyes were stuck nearly shut with crusted pus. “Are these,” he said, trailing a finger through its fur, “fleas? I’ve never seen so many fleas...” His tone held a combination of surprise and disgust.