by Darrell Bain
"Thank you so much. We'll--"
"I think Fussy is waking up now, Sammie," Whit said as he returned to the den. "It's a bit sooner than I thought but I didn't give him a big dose of anesthetic to begin with."
"Oh, good, I won't have to come back then. Mom, I'm going to go help Dr. Whi--I mean help Whit with Fussy. Is that okay?"
"Go ahead." She chuckled. "Tom, we may wind up spending the night whether we want to or not."
"Maybe I could just take Fussy back to the cabin with me," Samantha offered.
"Let me think about that and talk to Whit about it first. You'd better run now if he's waking up."
Fussy was already conscious enough to be raising his head briefly to look around then laying it back down. The cage was on an elevated stand for easier access so that Samantha had to bend only slightly to talk to him.
"Fussy, how do feel now. Does your leg still hurt?"
Hurts when move.
"He says his leg hurts when he moves it, Whit."
"That's natural. Tell him he needs to move it some, though, so it won't stiffen up on him."
She told the bobcat what Whit had said as well as she could. He didn't reply but did manage to stand up, favoring the wounded back leg. He went directly to the water dish and drank deeply, lapping and lapping as though he hadn't drank in a week.
"I think that's enough water for now, Fussy. You'll get sick if you drink any more now." Fussy looked up then came back to the front of the cage where Samantha waited.
The veterinarian stared at her. He had intended to tell her the same thing but obviously Dr. Summers had been accurate in his description of the things she had learned working with her. Instead, he said, "Sammie, this is a wild cat, not only by the name some people call his species, but he was raised in the wild. I doubt that he would stay with you very long and I'd like to watch him for a few days before turning him loose."
"May I ask him what he wants?"
He shrugged. "Go ahead," he said then chuckled. "My colleagues would think I'd gone bonkers if they heard me telling you to ask him what he'd like to do."
"I know," she replied. "I'm used to it. Let's see what he says." She bent toward the cat. "Fussy, would you like to go live with me and Shufus, my dog?"
Want to go.
"Yes, but you still have to let your leg get well. You can either stay here in the cage or go with me and Shufus."
Fussy touched his nose to the very front of the cage. Shufus raised up and put his paws on the edge of the table so that he could look directly at the animal Samantha was talking to. Fussy backed away a step then stopped and stared at the dog.
"It's okay, Fussy. Shufus is my friend. He wants you to be friends, too. Stay with us and my Mom and Dad and we'll feed you and give you water. You have to do as I say, though."
After repeating the offer, the bobcat made up its mind. It was still young enough to remember its mother, although somewhat vaguely. It did understand that Samantha wanted to take care of him until he was well. Friends. Go.
"He says he wants to go with us."
"Will he obey you if we take him in to talk to your mother?"
"Yes, sir."
"Do you know how to give shots?"
"Yes, sir. Dr. Summers taught me."
"Okay, he'll need one more antibiotic shot and probably a couple of shots for the pain. He'll need to exercise gently several times a day to keep his leg healing correctly. If you can take care of all that and your mother approves, then he can go with you, even if I am having a hard time believing he understands everything you say."
"He understands enough of it to do as I ask him to, and he understands that I'm going to take care of him until he gets well."
"Okay then, lift him out of the cage and tell him he needs to walk for a little ways."
She did so, lifting him down to the floor. He stood in place while Shufus sniffed noses with him. He backed away for a moment but then came forward and rubbed his cheek against Shufus' muzzle.
"Beats anything I ever saw," the doctor said admiringly.
"Alright, Fussy, let's walk. If you start hurting too much, tell me and I'll carry you."
They headed back toward the administrative building. Fussy came, slowly at first but gradually increased his gait to halting walk and made it all the way on his own. He paused at the entrance to the den upon seeing the other humans.
"Friends, Fussy. Good humans."
The cat apparently agreed for he limped over to the soft deerskin rug in front of the fireplace and lay down there. Samantha knelt down to pet him and scratch behind his ears and under his chin. He began purring, a deep sound almost like a growl but with friendly overtones to it.
"Sammie strikes again," Elaine said.
An impish grin appeared on Samantha's face. "Mom, he followed me here. Can I keep him?"
"Are you kidding, Sammie? That's a wildcat!"
"No ma'am, I'm not kidding. He wants to go home with me. And remember, I was supposed to get a kitten in Lufkin and never did."
Elaine looked over at the bobcat lying peacefully on the rug. "He doesn't look much like a kitten, Sammie." She raised her brows in a wry expression.
"Shufus likes him. Don't you Shufus?"
The German Shepherd nodded his head up and down then walked over and lay down beside the cat. They nuzzled each other's muzzles for a moment then both closed their eyes. She joined them for a moment, kneeling down, and gave Shufus the same treatment she had the cat while telling him what a good dog he was. His tail thumped happily on the floor.
"Elaine, you really must have some reputable scientists study how Sammie does this. If veterinarians could perform like she does it would completely change the field, and that's not even mentioning a lot of other improvements I think she could make in animal husbandry and wildlife management."
"We know, Whit, but not yet. We'd appreciate you not publicizing what she can do either, not even among your colleagues."
"But it should all be documented, at least."
"Just keep your notes private, please. And we do have a reporter who is compiling her biography but it won't be released until Sammie is eighteen, if then."
"Why would it not be?"
"It might, but it's going to be Sammie's decision when she comes of age. Until then, the less said the better. If you had been there when those lunatics came around bothering us, you'd know. Some wanted to worship her, some believed what she did was magic and others thought she was in league with the devil. We had to move from our home in Alaska because her talent wasn't accepted and now we had to move again to get away from the nut cases in Texas. We just want her to have as normal a life as possible while allowing her to exercise her talent with animals quietly."
"Does that mean she can work with me?"
"So long as it doesn't interfere with her school work or get into the news media."
"I can live with that. Sammie, would you like to work with me once you and your folks get settled?"
"Yes, sir. I'd love to. I want to be a veterinarian when I'm grown, unless I go into research."
"That's fine but don't put a limit on your talent. Think of ways you can use it when you go out into the world. But right now, let me ask you a question. Can you teach what you do to other people?"
Samantha frowned with thought. "I'm not sure. I don't think so but I guess it's possible. The problem is that I don't really understand how I do it myself."
"You don't?"
"No, sir. I've been able to talk to animals as far back as I can remember. It just seems... natural, I guess is the word. It seems natural to me."
He shook his head with an expression that gave away worlds of information without saying a word. "Well, we'll have to talk some more another time. Right now I have to go. I've got some more work to do, but I'll be in touch."
"Thank you for letting me help."
"No, thank you. Oh--let me run get Fussy's medicine and explain the doses. You did say the bobcat could go home with you, Elaine?"
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"I didn't say but I guess he can. After all, we really did say she could have a kitten."
"Well, you've got one now. A little big, but if you want to call him a kitten that's fine with me. I'll be right back."
Fussy was somewhat nervous riding in the SUV but with Samantha on one side of him and Shufus on the other they made it fine. Whit had even sent along some cat food and wrote out instructions on what to watch for with his wound and reminded them that he had already treated the cat for fleas. His last words had been, "I'll be around to check on him every couple of days until he's well. I'm real interested in seeing how he'll act with humans after living all his life in the wild."
"Me, too," Elaine had replied.
Chapter Twenty Four
Fussy settled in with no problems other than learning how to tell Elaine when he needed to go outside. Shufus helped in that regard by going with him the first few times, although he appeared puzzled by the bobcat always covering up his wastes. The cat didn't mind that Shufus didn't follow the practice. He already knew that coyotes and wolves didn't and Shufus was a similar species.
A week later they all got a surprise when Ronald drove up right after the evening meal when they had all gone out for a walk. They saw his car and hurried to meet him, Fussy included.
After hugging his wife and Samantha and petting Shufus, he and Fussy simply stared at each other warily. "Who is this?" he asked.
"That's Fussy, Dad. He's going to live with us now. We usually call him Fussy because it's easier to say than his real name."
"He's staying with us?"
"Yes, sir. He's my kitten."
Ronald raised his brows then laughed, putting the cat at ease. He had already learned the meaning of laughter. He came forward and rubbed his body against Ronald's leg then came back and rubbed the other side, exactly the way house cats performed. "I see he's already made himself at home so I guess I don't have much to say about it. How about we all go in and have some coffee?"
Ronald sat and listened while his wife and daughter told them how Fussy had come to live with them and that Elaine had already gone to work at the administrative center.
"That's all great. Honey, I hope you can take a little time off to look at a place I found to buy. It's only about fifteen miles from here. It comes with a huge fenced yard, a garden plot and it's not too awful far from the little town where I'm told the Sanctuary does its shopping."
"I can make time for that but Sammie needs to start her schooling next week."
"It's at the Eagleman home the next two weeks, Dad," Samantha broke in excitedly. "He and his wife are Amerindians and there's over twenty kids that go to school together and they said I could bring Shufus and they all want to meet Fussy and I'm working with Whit-he's the veterinarian, Dr. Whitmeyer, and... "
"Whoa, Sammie," Ronald cut her off, laughing. "Pause and take a breath occasionally. Remember, I just arrived!"
"Sorry, Dad. I just like it here."
"That's good. Now, how about some coffee?"
***
Samantha's exuberance about the schooling was more anticipation than knowledge on her part. She hadn't met but one of the teens she would be home schooled with, a cute girl with red hair and freckles by the name of Jessica O'Lauren who had brought a badly hurt crow to Dr. Whitmeyer. Even with a broken wing and leg it was still belligerent. Since the veterinarian had never treated a crow before and only rarely a bird of any kind, he called for Samantha. They were in the process of moving into their new home after a hasty closing, but she was given permission to go to the animal clinic with Jessica's mother when the doctor told her he needed Samantha to help.
Mrs. O'Lauren looked askance at Samantha but said only, "Aren't you rather young to be helping Whit?"
Apparently everyone knew him as Whit, Samantha thought. To Jessica's mother she simply said, "I suppose so, but I'm who he wants so I guess I need to go."
Jessica asked, "Do you have a pet?"
"I have two. Shufus is my dog. He's a German Shepherd and I have a bobcat named Fussy. I don't actually own them. They're more like friends."
"I've never had a pet but Mom said I could have a dog for my birthday. She doesn't want me to keep the crow if it lives because she thinks it would call other crows and they'd eat up our garden."
Samantha wondered about that. She had called out to crows a time or two but even though they circled around her they always wound up flying off. "I don't know about that but I do know they're kind of standoffish with humans because they're hunted so often. If this one lives I'd like to see if I could tame it."
"Crows are hunted because they get into crops," Mrs. O'Lauren said. "I really doubt you could teach it to stay out of your peach trees even if you took it home with you, Sammie."
"One crow wouldn't eat much, Mom," the girl said.
"Yes, but crows always have friends."
There was no reply to that because Samantha knew it to be true and so did Jessica.
"Ah, there's my helper. Come on in, all of you," Whit said when they arrived. "Sammie this is going to be a tough case. I have no idea of how my anesthetics will affect a crow and I'm afraid it won't make it if it struggles very hard."
"I'll do my best, but I sure can't promise much because I don't know very much about crows," Samantha said, avoiding letting Jessica and her mother know she would try talking to the crow.
"I know, I just thought it was worth trying."
The crow was confined to a cage small enough to prevent it from attempting to fly, which would only cause more injury to its wing. It cawed raspishly as the humans came near, warning them away, or trying to.
Jessica wasn't allowed to stay after Whit remembered Samantha didn't want others to know about her talent. Even after she promised to be very quiet, he told her no as gently as he could. "This is a wild bird Jessica. The fewer people around it, the less agitated I think it will be. You can wait right outside with your mother though, and I promise to let you know the instant we're finished."
Samantha felt sorry that she wasn't allowed to be present after saving the crow but saw no way around Whit's order. She wasn't really satisfied but she already knew that as gentle and friendly as Whit was, when he said something he meant it.
Samantha came close to the cage and began speaking to the crow in soft, soothing tones. She knew that crows and ravens were smart birds and hoped it would understand her. It did quiet down and began to listen while she talked. Eventually it began answering, haphazardly at first. It took a good half hour before Samantha could be sure it understood that they wanted to help it, but that in order to do so they would have to inflict a bit more pain at first. That was the hardest concept to get across, especially because crows communicated in a rather different manner than mammals and both she and the crow were learning as they went.
She decided it was best to start with its leg, where the lower bone was broken. It could be tightly splinted after being set and probably do fine. After that she could try to get it to let them work on its wing.
"Let's take it out of the cage now, Whit. I told her you were going to."
"Does it have a name?"
"Just its flock name, I think. Something like Rrawar. It's hard to pronounce."
"You seem to have succeeded," Whit said when the crow cocked its head and stared at Samantha with one beady eye.
"Maybe. Go ahead now. I told her we were going to hold its wing close to its body so the broken bone doesn't tear the skin anymore."
With infinite gentleness borne of long practice Whit carefully put his large hands around the wild crow, keeping its wings nestled close to its body, and lifted it out of the cage and over to an operating table. The crow remained quiet while its leg was splinted with the smallest, thinly-padded cast he had. He had to trim some off the top to make it fit but once it was on and tightened, the crow took a couple of experimental hops then cawed loudly. It was a sound of relief, Samantha thought, though she couldn't be sure. She asked and it affirmed that its leg f
elt better. She was quickly catching on to the nuances of its unfamiliar avian language.
"There. We'll leave that on for a few weeks and its leg will be good as ever. Now for the hard part. Sammie, can you tell her to eat a pain pill?"
"I can try." She spoke to the crow for several minutes then held out the capsule. It took it in its beak and raised its head and swallowed.
"Good for you. Now then, we wait about fifteen minutes then we'll set the wing. Would you like to hold her until then?" the doctor asked.
"Oh yes! We're getting to be friends now."
"Go ahead, then. Just be careful and keep your hand on its wing so it won't move it."
She picked up the crow very gently and set it down in her lap. She commenced running her finger over its feathered head in a soothing fashion and murmuring to it. After a few minutes the crow closed its eyes. "Is she asleep now?"
"No, but she probably is getting a little sleepy. I was afraid to give her a large dose. Give her ten more minutes and we'll fix the wing. While we're waiting, tell me about talking to the crow. Is it different than mammals?"
"Oh, yes!" Samantha said emphatically. "They're real different but it's hard to explain just how. They... I guess maybe they think differently?"
"You probably nailed it. The brains of mammals and birds aren't alike, and of course their environment gives them different perspectives. How much do you know about vertebrate biology?"
"I've just had general science in middle school. It was pretty general, alright. I found that out after looking at some of Dr. Summers' books in Lufkin. I read some other zoology books, though. The nomenclature was boring but I'll already know most of the course when I'm home schooled in it, though."
"That's good. You should have an idea by now of just how much more you're going to have to learn. Maybe eventually, after you've been taught anatomy and physiology of mammals, you'll come closer to being able to explain how you do what you do."
"I hope so. I have read some anatomy and physiology of the higher mammals but none of it helped me understand my talent. It would be nice to be able to say something besides 'I've always been able to talk to animals.'"