Don't Turn Your Back in the Barn (Adventures of a Country Vet)

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Don't Turn Your Back in the Barn (Adventures of a Country Vet) Page 3

by Perrin, Dr. Dave


  Deb brought a blanket from her cabin to cover the back seat of my car and, as Gordon held the front seat forward, I settled Theo down on his side.

  We'd barely pulled out of the lane when Gordon started his banter.

  "Boy, she's really got her talons sharpened for your behind. Did you see her eyes light up when you said he'd need a lot of aftercare?"

  "You've got an overactive imagination, Gordon. She just wants her dog looked after."

  "Bullcrap to that! Deb's hormones are more overworked than my imagination. You just wait and see."

  It was almost dark by the time we pulled up in front of Grampa's house. I unlocked the door to the back porch.

  "Could you hold the door open while I get him out, Gord?" Wrapping the blanket around Theo, I pulled his head firmly against my shoulder and lifted him into my arms. He whimpered as his hind legs were pulled under him but made no move to resist as I maneuvered him out of the vehicle. Gordon rushed to open the outside entry, took a few hesitant steps into the porch, and halted. He lit his lighter and fumbled for the kitchen doorknob. Following him into the black void, I deposited Theo on what I was sure must be the kitchen table.

  "Could you hold him steady here, while I see to lighting up the surgery?"

  Gordon chuckled as he stumbled hesitantly through the darkened room towards the table.

  I found a flashlight and quickly retrieved the lantern from the bedroom. After a few hearty pumps and a couple of wasted matches, we were treated to the gentle hiss and soft flickering light of the Coleman lamp. Gordon surveyed the room, his face betraying his utter disbelief.

  "Oh, man! How'd you end up in a place like this?"

  "This was my grampa's house; my aunts own it now. It's somewhere to start from, and besides, the price is right."

  "It better be!"

  I chuckled. "You're not afraid of bats, are you?"

  "Not particularly, but they're not my favourite creatures either."

  "Well, I guess we'd better get looking after this beast." I ladled a few dippers of water from the bucket on the counter into the plastic hand basin that sat beside it. Digging through one of the boxes in the corner, I produced a bottle of Bridine surgical scrub and poured a healthy glug of it into the basin. I found a syringe and drew up first Atravet and then atropine.

  "I'll just give him this cocktail to get him ready for his anesthetic. It'll settle him down a bit and prevent him from salivating."

  Gordon nodded as he watched me administer the concoction.

  "Let's get a better look at those wounds. Do you think you can hold him flat out so I can get at him a little easier?"

  Theo struggled briefly as Gordon forced him onto his side. The skin on his forehead wrinkled, and he emitted a pathetic little whine. There was a look of anticipation in his big brown eyes.

  "Good fellow. We're not going to hurt you, boy. Just relax now."

  I looked over at Gordon. A few beads of sweat had formed on his brow; the lock of hair that hung over his forehead was glued to his skin. His eyes were focused on the dog's groin, where the inner portion of his right hind leg had been skinned as neatly as if it had been done with a knife. A flap larger than my hand gaped open to reveal the flesh beneath.

  "You'd think he had been stripped down for an anatomy lesson, wouldn't you? Everything's dissected as nicely as any specimen I've seen in school. This muscle sticking up here's called the pectineus. The two vessels running over the bottom of it are the femoral artery and femoral vein. If you look closely, you can see that one pulsate...that's the artery. This is the gracilis muscle and here are the adductors."

  "I'm glad you recognize all of the parts. Can you make a dog out of them again?"

  "I guess we better find out, hadn't we?"

  Wandering from box to box, I accumulated what I needed for the job at hand. Drawing up twenty millilitres of distilled water, I injected it into the bottle containing Biotal. With vigorous shaking, the powder dissolved to yield a clear yellowish liquid. Drawing twelve millilitres of the solution into my syringe, I laid it on the table next to Theo and repositioned the lantern for better light. I grasped his good leg, blocked the vein, and rhythmically stroked the upper surface of his leg with an alcohol swab until I could plainly detect the outline of the cephalic vein.

  "Hold his head against your shoulder for a moment, Gord, just in case he tries to struggle."

  I positioned the needle over the vein and drove it through the skin into the rope-like structure of the vessel. I drew back on the plunger and a jet of dark venous blood gushed into the Biotal solution.

  "Good shot!"

  Releasing the vein, I slid my left hand down to support the leg, then rapidly injected half of the solution.

  "How long does it take for this stuff to work, Dave?"

  As if in response, Theo relaxed in his arms, closed his eyes, and gave a big yawn.

  "You're kidding! It can't be that fast."

  "You can let go of him now." I touched the corner of his eye with a finger and got a slow blink in response. I pried open his mouth to determine the tone of his jaw. Theo yawned again, sticking out his long pink tongue and exposing pearly white teeth. Slowly, I injected more Biotal, checked his tone again, and injected the remainder.

  Drawing up more Biotal, I reconnected to the needle and taped the syringe to Theo's foreleg. By this time he was totally relaxed, and I was able to roll him onto his side and lift his good leg out of the way to better expose his injury.

  "Could you hold this for me, Gord?"

  Thhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...Thhhhhhhhhhhhh...

  "Whooie! Is this dog ever rotten." Gordon held his nose, then gasped as he grabbed the foot. Opening and closing his mouth like a big goldfish, he backed up to arm's length. "Does an anesthetic always make them fart like that?"

  "Not really, but it relaxes them; if they happen to have gas, they'll not have any control over it."

  Thhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...Thhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

  "Man, he keeps passing wind like that and you're going to need a new hind end man!"

  "Just hold that leg up, and I'll get this over with."

  Pouring the surgical soap into the open wound, I pulled back the skin margins and scrubbed at the underlying tissue.

  "Look at all the gravel he's got in that wound. How're you ever going to get that cleaned out?"

  "Most of the wound isn't too bad. It's only along this edge that there's a lot of debris."

  I poured fresh water into the basin. After finishing my scrub, I peeled back the flap of skin and trimmed away the subcutaneous tissue that was heavily embedded with gravel.

  "He doesn't need that?"

  "Nope. That's why I've always hated working on machines; the parts all have to fit too precisely. When you're doing surgery, you can do a lot of trimming and still make things fit together. If in doubt, throw it out—unless there's only one of them, of course."

  I continued trimming back the wound margins and removing all signs of devitalized tissue. Bringing the skin edges together with single sutures in different locations, I was able to close it in such a way as to minimize the tension on any one suture. Inserting a pair of sharp-nosed forceps under the skin, I moved in three inches from the wound margin and poked them upwards to form a tent. With a scalpel blade, I cut the skin to allow the forceps to poke through.

  "Hasn't this dog got enough holes in him that you have to be making more?"

  "With this much skin undermined, I have to put in some drainage or we'll get an accumulation of fluid that could force its way out between the sutures and keep the wound from healing."

  Gord opened the package containing the Penrose drain, and I withdrew the long rubber tube. Spreading the forceps that poked through the skin, I grasped the drain, pulled it through, and sutured it to the skin.

  "Hey, your patient's running away!"

  Sure enough, Theo made a determined effort to flex his leg. "Looks like he needs more goof." I slowly chased another three millilitres down the needle into the do
g's vein. Pausing for a few moments, I checked his jaw tone for signs of resistance. "That should hold you, fellow." I gave him one more millilitre, removed the tape, and pulled out the needle. After scrubbing up again, I returned to sew between the tack sutures that had been placed earlier. When I was done, the wound was closed with neat, evenly placed stitches.

  "Sort of looks like he ran into a porcupine," Gordon quipped. "What do you plan on doing—charging Deb by the stitch?"

  Thhhhhh...Thhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

  "Oh no, there he goes again. Thank heavens we're almost finished! I can't take much more of that!"

  "I've got to admit, he's pretty ripe. All the way out here in the car, I thought it was you I was smelling."

  "Humph!" Gordon snorted.

  "Let's get a look at that front leg now." I manipulated Theo's front paw back and forth, checking for abnormal movement or grinding sensations. "It's amazing the amount of abuse a limb can take without breaking. Look at all the skin that was dragged off without injuring the deeper structures."

  Sticking Theo's entire foreleg in the basin of soapy water, I scrubbed the wound and removed most of the dirt and hair. As Gordon held the lantern closer, I picked out the worst of the gravel, slathered it with antibiotic ointment, and bandaged it.

  After rattling through my boxes to come up with another syringe and needle, I grabbed the flashlight and headed for the door.

  "Where are you going?"

  "Have to run downstairs for some penicillin. I've got all the medications that have to be kept cool down in the root cellar."

  With Gordon minding Theo, I carefully felt my way down the shaky stairwell. Placing each foot deliberately on the creaky treads, I ducked my head to avoid the floor joists. Spiders had been busily at work since my last passage, and I had to continually shield my face in a futile effort to avoid their webs. I grabbed a bottle from the shelf and navigated up the stairs.

  "Dave, this dump could be used as a movie setting for the Munsters!" Gordon looked on in disgust as I picked the cobwebs from the front of my shirt. "We've got to find you a better place to work out of. This is ridiculous!"

  Theo was already beginning to wake up and, as I administered the injection, he moved his hind leg and raised his head to look around. He tried to focus, but gave up and surrendered to sleep.

  I wandered to the spare bedroom with the flashlight, spread an old sleeping bag on the floor, and covered it with Deb's blanket. Rearranging boxes full of unpacked clothing and bedding in a circle to keep the dog confined, I fashioned a bit of a corral, then placed Theo in the centre of it.

  "Come on, son, time to wake up." I thumped him a few times over the rib cage. "It's all over now. There's a boy. There's a boy."

  He rolled onto his sternum, lifted his head, and made a feeble attempt to stand. Shifting unsteadily from one side to the other, he seemed exhausted by his efforts. With a deep sigh, he crumpled, rested his head on his bandaged paw, and went back to sleep.

  "Well, Gord, looks like he's safe enough to leave. Maybe I can give you a ride home now." I shut off the lantern and we picked our way to the car with the flashlight.

  "You just have to find a decent place to practise out of, Dave. I can see your staying here while you make arrangements for something else, but you have to make a move right away."

  All the way to Erickson, Gordon droned on about finding a better location—one that was central and visible to the people of Creston. I listened on the way in and stewed on the way home—he was right and I knew it. I had to intensify the search!

  The sky was clear again, and the stars were as bright as they had been earlier in the week. I tipped my head back in search of the brilliant star that had held my focus the night before—the one that would certainly grant my wish and deliver me from these dingy surroundings.

  The air was still without the slightest trace of a breeze. Crickets chirped incessantly; frogs worked diligently to drown them out. Off in the bush I could hear the hoot, hoot, hoot of an owl, overhead the droning of the ever-present nighthawks. These were the sounds of silence—the sounds that every country-bred person loves but soon doesn't even notice. I lay on the grass in the back yard and searched for my elusive benefactor. Why was it so difficult to locate tonight, when the night before it had so dominated the heavens?

  I stumbled into the house to check on Theo. He was stretched out in a relaxed pose, his breathing soft and regular. He raised his head briefly when the light shone in his eyes, then sighed and returned to sleep.

  He was on his feet and stumbling around the room when I arrived to check him in the morning. He limped towards me and thrust his nose into my outstretched hand. His tail was wagging so briskly that it took his whole body with him, thrusting his hind quarters back and forth from side to side.

  "Well, good morning to you too, Theo! You sure look chipper this morning!"

  He wandered off through the kitchen, shoving his nose in one box after the other in search of something to eat.

  "Pretty slim pickings around here, boy. I should know—it's not any better for me!"

  I rummaged through one of the boxes in the corner and found a large can of dog food. I held a heaping tablespoon in front of the eager mutt and watched as it disappeared in a single gulp. Other bites followed until nothing remained but the licking of the spoon. Theo continued to stare hopefully, certain that there must be more where that came from. When nothing was forthcoming, he wandered off to continue his snooping.

  I passed a length of nylon rope through the ring in Theo's collar and fastened it on with a bowline.

  "Time for a pee, boy."

  He lunged through the doorway and out into the sunlight. Pulling me to the car, he gingerly lifted his sore hind leg and sent a jet of urine splashing over the tire. After watering every standing structure in the back yard and taking a good long drink from the creek, he indicated he wanted to wander off and do some exploring on his own.

  "Enough of this, boy. It's time to take you back to mama."

  I boosted Theo onto the back seat of my car. "I'll be back as soon as I get your blanket." I rolled the window partway down to give him some fresh air, then closed the car door and walked to the house. Rummaging through the kitchen for something that could pass for breakfast, my mind flashed back to the days when these cupboards were laden with food. In Grandma's day, canning jars brimmed with goodies of all descriptions. I could see the beans, peas, beets, dills, asparagus, tomatoes, trout, and chicken.

  What I wouldn't do for a nice big jar of Grandma's canned chicken. I visualized popping the lid and thrusting a fork through the jelly to fish out a juicy, tender leg or thigh. My mouth watered at the thought!

  I found the remains of a bag of whole wheat bread and gave it a quick once-over for signs of mould. Nothing was obvious, so I scraped the bottom and sides of the peanut butter jar for enough to spread a thin layer on a crust. I folded it, took a bite, located Deb's blanket, and headed out.

  Munching absently on my less-than-appetizing breakfast, I stopped to lock the door and pick one of Theo's hairs from the last bite of my sandwich. I wandered to the car and opened the passenger door to throw the blanket on the seat.

  A shiver ran up my spine. I flung the seat forward. Theo was gone!

  "Oh God!" How could this be happening? How could a gibbledup dog the size of Theo possibly crawl out of a little crack like that? I backed up and examined the half-open window in utter dismay. It was impossible! He couldn't have squeezed through there!

  I searched quickly around the yard and out towards the array of weeds where my grandparents once had their garden—he couldn't have gone very far! I turned to the north, took a few indecisive steps up the outhouse path, and stopped.

  "Theo! Theo! Come on, boy! Theo! Where are you? Theo! Theeeeeooooo!"

  Retracing my steps, I ran to the brow of the hill. "Theeeooo! Theeeooooo! Theo, where are you?"

  Not a sign of him. What if he just headed out into the bush and died? I could just hear it now...Ev
eryone in town would know about this before the week was out. Where in the world would a crippled dog go?

  "Theo! Theeoo! Theeeeeoooooo!"

  I returned to the house. Damn it anyway! Maybe I should just pack up my stuff and leave. I always had to be different from the crowd. The rest of the class just went out and worked for an established practice. Why couldn't I?

  "Theo! Theeoo!"

  I walked briskly down the driveway, scanning the horizon for the faintest glimpse of my escaped patient.

  "Theeeeooooo!"

  A wave of panic struck me, and I broke into a jog. By the time I arrived at the picket gate of my neighbours, Bea and Fred MacKay, I was on a dead run and almost out of breath. I stumbled onto the porch and pounded on their door.

  Bea flung it open. "My lands, Dave, what in the world's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

  "The problem is more that I've lost a ghost! I brought a big brown Doberman-type dog home last night and sewed him up. This morning, I loaded him into my car and left him for just a few seconds. By the time I got back, he'd jumped out the window and disappeared. He has two injured legs, but he's running around here somewhere. If you see him, could you give me a holler?"

  "I tell you what; I'll throw on some shoes and a jacket and see if I can help you find him."

  "Thanks, Bea, I'd appreciate it. Wouldn't you know it? The first bloody dog I get to work on, and he runs off on me!"

  "Well, he couldn't have gone far. What's his name?"

  "Theo, but he doesn't appear to answer to it."

  "I'll get right out there, Dave, and I'll give Fred a holler and tell him to keep an eye out. He's gone out to get the cows in."

  "Thanks Bea!" I was already halfway up the walk. "I'm heading into the bush above Grampa's old garden site if you see anything of him...Theo! Theeooo!"

  I made a quick pass through the underbrush at the edge of the garden without finding a trace of him.

  "Theeeeoooo!"

  Like an echo from across the road came Bea's voice. "Theo! Theeooo! Here Theo...Come, Theo."

  "Theo! Damn!" Wandering along and peering off into the bushes, I hadn't paid attention to the ground. Before I knew it, I was up to my ankles in mud.

 

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