Page 40 of Vetted for Vengeance
Chapter twenty-one
Rhys
It’s three AM.
Of course it is.
All old dogs decide to have trouble at three AM. No dog ever gets a pup stuck during the day when I’m awake and functional.
Getting ready is easy, pajamas off, scrubs on. Done.
Socks and crocs, and I head across to the practice a stone's throw away.
What greets me is a full stage performance.
A camera crew is setting up in my operating room. Laura and Tree are here, along with Noah, who is practically inside the kennel with the dog.
“We're setting up surgery,” Tree explains quickly. “I’ve been here all evening. Noah has been here since nine. Active labor for 90 minutes, no pups.”
“This is…” I don't recall the name; my late night-brain doesn't care about trivia, but I know all the important information. “Six years old experienced whelper, twelve pups.”
“He calls her Honey.” Tree smiles affectionately as Noah tries to talk Honey into pushing a little more.
90 minutes of active labor is a long time with no pups. She's certainly not going to have the energy to deliver all 12 now. The odds are stacked towards needing surgical intervention at some point. Usually, the choice to jump into surgery rests with the owners and their bank balance, but this dog doesn't have an owner. Noah is the closest thing she has to someone who cares, and he’ll want what’s best.
The production team will foot the bill. Or the council.
Or me.
I'll pay whatever it costs to keep Noah’s favorite dog safe.
“Prep her. We'll go straight to surgery.”
“Yes, Doctor,” Tree turns towards the kennels.
“I want Noah to scrub in with me.”
“Noah?” Tree frowns. “He'd be better with the pups.”
“This is his favorite dog. He'll be distracted, worrying about her instead of the puppies. Have Laura support each puppy for the camera.”
A small smile crosses her face before she rushes off to get ready. My first job is hands-on, administering the sedatives, and then the breathing tube once the dog is asleep. My nurses prep her, shaving the fur from the incision site while Noah and I scrub our hands in the surgery. Laura has the heating crib set up ready for the babies.
My patient arrives, joined by a shaking Noah.
“Worried about the dogs?” I ask, trying to focus his mind.
“Honey is in the best hands on the planet.” He answers quickly. “This is my first surgery.”
“You will never forget this moment.” I stand over the dog, just a wall of green drapes around a rectangular of flesh. “Scalpel.”
Noah reaches for the scalpel, his hands steady now, the adrenaline taking over from his nerves.
I make my incision and enter the abdominal cavity. Noah didn't even blink.
As I exposed the uterine wall, he leaned forward a little.
“Opening the uterus now, ready for the first pup?”
