by Lucy Daniels
It was a relief when he put the final suture in. Reaching out, Mandy turned the anaesthetic off so the animal was breathing only oxygen. It was essential to keep the endotracheal tube in place as long as possible. The short starvation increased the vomiting risk.
Despite keeping the anaesthesia light, it seemed an age before Widget swallowed. As soon as Mandy had taken the tube out, the tiny dog lifted her head, looking round as if wondering where she was. Lifting the insubstantial body into her arms, Mandy stroked the miniature head. She was glad to find Jenny on duty in the recovery area. Like Peter, she was dressed in scrubs. The cat Mandy had spayed earlier was curled up looking comfortable.
‘Another one for you,’ she told Jenny. ‘Can you keep a special eye on little Widget, please? I managed to keep her temperature up, but there’s a risk of fitting due to hypoglycaemia. Use some carob syrup on her gums if you need to. I’ll be in theatre with Peter if you need me.’ The nurse nodded.
To her relief, Peter had already anaesthetised their next patient, which was a rabbit. ‘Talk about going from the sublime to the ridiculous,’ he said.
Mandy stared at the enormous furry bundle. Despite being a Flemish Giant, the rabbit was even bigger than most of its breed. As she and Peter inserted the V-gel tube into its throat, Mandy was relieved it was Peter doing the surgery and not her. As he opened into the abdomen, he could barely find the uterus among the mounds of fat. Once the spay was complete, he had a difficult time closing up, and Mandy heard him muttering to himself behind his mask.
By the time Mandy handed the rabbit to Jenny, the forty-five minutes that were allocated for her lunch were two-thirds past. Just as well she had come prepared, she thought, as she pulled open the fridge in the staff room and grabbed the sandwich she had brought. It was almost time for Geoff to arrive, but she wanted to prepare a diet sheet for the owner of the oversized rabbit. Throwing herself into a seat, she pulled a piece of paper towards her and began to write.
‘What’s that you’ve got there?’
Mandy looked up, startled. She had been so engrossed, she hadn’t noticed Simon coming in.
‘It’s a diet sheet for the rabbit Peter and I spayed this morning.’ She pulled a face. ‘Poor thing, Peter could hardly bring the muscle back together, the pressure from the abdominal fat was so great.’
Simon grinned. ‘Don’t forget to make an outline of all the exercise you want it to do,’ he said. ‘Maybe some hopping on the spot.’
Mandy lifted her eyes for a moment, then dropped them and continued writing. She had always been amused by Simon’s quirky sense of humour, but these days there often seemed to be a dig about the attention she gave when her patients were passed back to their owners. This had been Peter’s case. In the unlikely event that Simon had been roped in to assist with the anaesthesia, he would never have considered getting involved in the post-operative care plan. Not even if it was in the best interests of the patient.
‘Hey, maybe we should see it as a financial opportunity?’ Simon suggested. ‘We could offer liposuction when we start up on our own.’
Mandy looked up again and frowned. ‘You know as well as I do that cosmetic surgery on animals is illegal in the UK.’
‘Maybe we should move to the US?’ Simon offered. ‘That way we could make even more money.’
‘Even if I wanted to move to the US,’ Mandy said, ‘which right now I don’t, there’s no reason any poor animal should suffer just because their owners have been irresponsible with their feeding.’ She glared at Simon, who looked surprised.
Raising his eyebrows, he held up his hands. ‘I wasn’t serious,’ he said. ‘I thought you’d know that. I fully intend to stay right here in Leeds. Unlike yours, my vet qualification isn’t even valid in the US.’
Taking a deep breath, Mandy unclenched her hands and looked down at the floor. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m just tired. It’s been a stressful morning.’ And I have to go out on an awful house visit in five minutes, she could have added.
‘Ah,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘You’re already getting used to the slower pace of life in sleepy Welford.’
Mandy felt her irritation rise again. Ever since James’s wedding, Simon had been making barbed little comments about Welford. It wasn’t as if Animal Ark was less busy than Thurston’s. During the day, things were less intense, but Thurston’s closed every evening. Nights, weekends and bank holidays were covered by an emergency clinic. Animal Ark was open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Every week. Yet when she had tried to challenge Simon’s comments, he’d told her he was only joking.
She was still trying to think of what to say when Saloni popped her head around the door. ‘Geoff’s here, Mandy,’ she said. With a sigh, Mandy stood up.
‘How was your visit back home?’ Geoff asked fifteen minutes later, as they drove towards the estate where Miss Kitty lived. Mandy glanced over at him. He was a friendly man, grey-haired, with a smile that could charm the most truculent pet-owner. Mandy had seen him use persuasion and patience many times where others might have jumped straight to blame.
‘It was great,’ she said. ‘The whole way of life there is so different from the city.’
Geoff took his eyes off the road for a moment to glance at her, then turned back with a sigh. ‘Oh yes,’ he said. ‘I remember not so many years ago, most practices were smaller and much less specialised. The vets would be out calving a cow one minute, the next they could be operating on a dog with a broken leg or checking out someone’s goldfish.’
‘It’s still like that at Animal Ark,’ Mandy admitted. ‘Mum and Dad do all kinds of things. I hadn’t realised until I went back how much I missed the variety.’
‘Well, I can’t wait to get back to my alpacas,’ Geoff said. ‘I miss them when I’m working.’ Mandy knew the welfare officer had a smallholding on the outskirts of Leeds. He had been telling her, ever since they met, just how much he was looking forward to his retirement.
They were almost there, she realised as they passed a graffiti-scarred row of shops. When they pulled up outside Miss Kitty’s tower block, a dispirited-looking boy of about eleven disappeared, returning a moment later with four others. Remembering Bert Burnley and his camping holidays for city children, Mandy wished she had something to offer them. They were eyeing the van as if it were some kind of prey. She wondered how their faces would look if they were taken to Jimmy Marsh’s Outward Bound trail in the woods. Would they relish the challenge? Could they learn to love the moors as she did?
Geoff Hayes was more prosaic. Climbing out of the van, he offered the tallest of the boys a large pack of mini Mars Bars. ‘Could you lads look after the van while I go on a house visit?’ he asked. ‘Share them out between you.’
Removing two cat baskets from the back of the van, ‘just in case,’ as Geoff said, they headed off across the rough tarmac. Trying not to look back, Mandy followed Geoff into the entrance. The tiles underfoot were gritty, and the sound of their footsteps echoed on the stained walls. The lift stank of urine. Nobody should have to live like this, Mandy thought. Welford seemed impossibly far away. As the lift juddered to a halt on the seventeenth floor and the doors slid open, they were greeted by the stench of cats.
Geoff breathed in, then shook his head. ‘They almost never comply,’ he said with a grimace. ‘Sometimes I wonder why we bother giving them the chance.’ Stamping across the landing, he set the cat baskets out of sight against the wall and banged on Miss Kitty’s door. ‘Geoff Hayes here,’ he called. ‘Animal Welfare.’ From inside the flat came the sound of two cats yowling. Even outside the door, it sounded loud.
The door opened a crack and an eye peered through. ‘What do you want?’ rasped a weak voice.
‘Can we come in, Miss Kitty?’ Geoff’s voice seemed loud in the enclosed hallway. ‘I’m Geoff Hayes from Animal Welfare. This is Mandy Hope from Thurston’s Veterinary Practice. We were here a couple of weeks ago about the cats, remember?’
The door opened
a little wider as Miss Kitty peeped out. Mandy tried not to gawk at the woman’s outfit. Along with a purple nightgown, she was wearing a stripy knitted hat and a huge silk shawl. A scrawny kitten was clutched to her chest. Pulling the shawl round as if to protect the tiny creature, Miss Kitty insisted, ‘I don’t want you to come in. I love my cats. We don’t need any help.’
‘Miss Kitty.’ Geoff’s voice sounded tired. ‘We need to get in. We have reason to believe you are not keeping your cats in a suitable environment. If you won’t allow us entry, I’ll have to call the police.’
The woman hugged the kitten even more tightly to herself, her mouth set in a straight line. Her eyes were defiant, but Mandy could see fear there as well. ‘That’s a lovely kitten, Miss Kitty,’ she said. ‘I know how much you love your cats. We only want to help, but we can’t do anything standing here on the doorstep. Won’t you let us come in? Please?’
The silence stretched out. Miss Kitty seemed to be giving her suggestion some consideration. Mandy hoped that Geoff would give her time. Eventually, Miss Kitty spoke. ‘You have kind eyes,’ she said. ‘You can come in. But I want him,’ she indicated Geoff, ‘to stay here.’
Mandy looked at the welfare officer. ‘Would that be all right with you?’ she murmured. ‘I could see how things are going, at least.’
Geoff nodded. ‘We don’t want to do anything to upset Miss Kitty if we can help it. I’ll be right here if you need me,’ he said.
Moving forward as Miss Kitty stepped back, Mandy pushed the door wide open. ‘I’ll just leave this open a crack,’ she told the owner. ‘Mr Hayes won’t come in without permission.’ Stepping inside, she half closed the door and followed Miss Kitty along the hallway.
It was obvious that all their previous recommendations had been ignored. Although the hallway was relatively clear, as soon as they rounded the corner into the kitchen, they were greeted by piles of rubbish. Strewn around, amid the old newspapers and broken utensils, cat faeces lay alongside filthy food dishes. There was no sign Miss Kitty had tried to clear the floor of rubbish, or serve fresh food or water. There seemed to be cats on every available surface. Mandy felt sick. There was no way they could leave the cats here. The three she could see clearly looked thinner than those she had been shown on their last visit. She stood for a long moment, just looking, trying not to breathe the overpowering stink of ammonia.
‘I’m very sorry, Miss Kitty,’ she said finally, ‘but we are going to have to take some of your cats away. It isn’t healthy for them to live in these conditions.’ To her distress, Miss Kitty put her hands over her ears and started to wail.
Over the noise, Mandy heard Geoff’s voice calling to her from the front door. ‘I’m going to call Ranjit,’ he said. ‘He’ll come out and give some support.’ Ranjit Singh was Miss Kitty’s social worker. Mandy knew Geoff had been in touch before their visit to tell him they might have to take the cats away.
The wailing grew louder. Despite feeling uncomfortable, Mandy stepped closer and patted Miss Kitty’s shoulder. She caught sight of another cat, cowering in the corner behind a large plant pot. As Mandy watched, the frightened animal opened its mouth in a silent meow. When it turned its head, Mandy saw a gaping wound on the side of its neck. Miss Kitty, seeing the direction of Mandy’s gaze, fell silent.
‘Daisy May,’ she whispered, pointing with a trembling hand.
‘Daisy May is badly injured.’ Mandy tried to keep her voice soft. ‘Would it be okay for me to take a closer look at her? I think she needs treatment.’ Miss Kitty gave a single nervous nod.
Edging closer to the little cat, Mandy managed to lift her up. As well as the wound on her neck, there was a flap of torn skin hanging from the top of her tail. A quick look around the kitchen convinced Mandy there was no way the injuries could be treated here. ‘She’s going to need an anaesthetic so I can clean and stitch her wounds,’ she explained. To her relief, Miss Kitty just blinked at her, and didn’t start wailing again.
Mandy thought for a moment. From the yowling they heard before they came in, there must have been another cat involved. Moving slowly, she took Daisy May out to Geoff and put her in one of the cages he had brought up. ‘Just as well you were prepared,’ she whispered.
Geoff half smiled. ‘I’ve been doing this for too many years,’ he replied.
Returning to the foetid flat, Mandy made her way back to Miss Kitty. ‘Daisy May is safe now,’ she said. ‘I’ll take her back to the clinic for treatment, but I think there must have been another cat involved. It may be injured, too. Can you tell me where it is?’ Miss Kitty didn’t say anything, but her eyes widened. As Mandy watched, the older woman’s gaze darted to a closed door across the hallway.
Stepping around the mess on the floor, Mandy opened the door and peered into a bathroom. Compared to the other rooms in the house, it was relatively empty, though still overwhelmingly filthy and rank smelling. As she stepped over the threshold, there was a crashing sound above her. Something huge hit the side of her head and she had an impression of fast-moving ginger fur before claws scraped across her face and down her shoulder. Needle-sharp teeth sank into the thumb on her left hand. A second later, an enormous tomcat landed in the bath, hissing up at her, its black pupils glittering in a whale-eyed gaze.
Mandy grabbed two towels from the floor and lunged forward, wrapping the material around the cat, bringing her arms together and enclosing both head and claws in a bundle she held close to her body. It was a manoeuvre she had practised many times, but it had never felt this close to a fight for survival! For the first time, the scratches on her face and the bite wound on her hand started to sting. Feeling sick, but holding the bundled cat tightly, she turned around.
To her surprise, Geoff was in the doorway, his face a picture of horror. ‘I heard the commotion.’ His voice sounded shaky. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes,’ Mandy muttered through gritted teeth, feeling blood start to ooze down towards her wrist. ‘Can you get the other basket?’ Geoff darted to the front door and collected it. Without unwinding the towels, they manhandled the spitting bundle into the cage and shut the lid. Mandy straightened up, reaching into her coat pocket for a tissue to wipe up the blood on her hand.
Miss Kitty was watching them. ‘Poor George,’ she said. ‘He isn’t really dangerous. He just doesn’t like strangers.’
‘Or other cats,’ Mandy said under her breath.
Miss Kitty’s shawl had slipped off her left shoulder and Mandy could see a deep set of scratches across the woman’s neck. Miss Kitty noticed her looking and pulled the shawl back into place. It was like a TV warning about domestic abuse. Mandy wanted to laugh, then cry. Her body was reacting to her injuries. Pulling herself together, she made her way to the bathroom sink. Despite being filthy, the water in the tap ran clean and there was an unopened bottle of soap lying on the floor. Lifting the soap, she washed the wounds on her hand and face, then wrapped her thumb in a clean handkerchief that Geoff handed to her. Her knees were trembling.
‘I can see that George has scratched you as well, Miss Kitty.’ Mandy was surprised how calm her own voice sounded. ‘We’ll take him away and see what we can do about rehoming him.’
A tear ran down Miss Kitty’s face. ‘You won’t have to put him down, will you?’ Her voice was pleading.
‘He’ll be neutered, then the rescue centre will try to rehabilitate him,’ Mandy said. ‘Just as they will with all the cats.’
More footsteps sounded in the hallway. ‘Miss Kitty?’ called a friendly voice. ‘It’s me, Ranjit.’ To Mandy’s relief, a young man with spiky black hair and warm eyes appeared behind Miss Kitty. He was wearing a leather jacket and skinny jeans tucked into unlaced DMs. Mandy felt herself close to giggling at the sight of such an unlikely social worker, and she swallowed hard.
Ranjit put his hand on Miss Kitty’s arm and she allowed herself to be led away to the kitchen. ‘We’ll make a nice cup of tea. Mr Hayes and Miss Hope will look after your cats.’
‘I’
ll take these two down.’ Geoff lifted the crates containing Daisy May and George. ‘And bring back some more.’ He looked round the room. ‘I think it might take more than one journey to collect them all,’ he said. ‘We’ll just have to make a start and see how we get on.’
It took a long time to catch all the cats. None of the others were as difficult to handle as George, but many of them were clearly terrified.
‘I think that’s the last,’ Geoff said as he closed the cage on a skin-and-bone tabby.
‘Except for the one Miss Kitty is holding,’ Mandy reminded him. She sighed. It seemed so cruel to take every single cat. ‘Is there any chance, if I came back to check on it, that she could try to keep that one? It’s a tomcat, so no worries about kittens at least. Though it would be even better if she’d let me neuter him, too.’
‘Are you sure you’ll want to come back and check?’ Geoff’s eyes studied her. ‘I can’t say I want to come back here any more than necessary, and it wasn’t even me who got bitten.’
Ranjit appeared from the kitchen. ‘She wants me to see what’s going on,’ he said.
‘We can swap,’ Mandy suggested. ‘If you help Geoff to take these cat boxes down, I could have a chat with Miss Kitty about the one she’s holding.’ It was, as she had thought, a tomcat. ‘He is lovely, Miss Kitty,’ she said a few moments later. ‘If you would be willing to let me take him for neutering, then I will try to convince Mr Hayes you’d be able to keep him. Does he have a name?’ she asked.
‘He’s called Friendly,’ Miss Kitty replied.
It was an apt name. When Mandy started to examine the little grey cat, he rubbed his face against her hand. Miss Kitty, who had been crying throughout the removal of the cats, had calmed down a little, though her eyes were still swollen. Leaving her clutching Friendly, Mandy, trying to keep her thumb clean, made a sweep of the kitchen, clearing away dirty food and setting out clean water. She would have to visit very soon. She would also need to promise Geoff that if anything went wrong, she would immediately be in touch, or available by phone, at least.