Free The Choice by Nicholas Sparks Page A

walked in and turned on the light, the first thing she noticed was the collection of wiggling, whining furballs surrounding her. Gabby called out to her; a moment later, however, she began to scream.
    Travis had just gone into the kitchen to pull a chicken breast from the refrigerator when he heard the sudden, frantic pounding on his door.
    “Dr. Parker? . . . Travis? . . . Are you in there?”
    It took only an instant to recognize the voice as Gabby’s. When he opened the door, her face was pale and terrified.
    “You’ve got to come.” Gabby gasped. “Molly’s in trouble.”
    Travis reacted on instinct; as Gabby began racing back to her house, he retrieved a medical bag from behind the passenger seat in the truck, the one he used for the occasional livestock call that required him to treat animals on farms. His father had always stressed the importance of keeping it fully stocked with anything he might need, and Travis had taken the message to heart. By then, Gabby was almost at her door, and she left it open, disappearing into the house. Travis followed a moment later and spotted her in the kitchen, near the open door that led to the garage.
    “She’s panting and vomiting,” she said as he hurried to her side. “And . . . something’s hanging out of her.” Travis took in the scene instantly, recognizing the prolapsed uterus and hoping he wasn’t too late.
    “Let me wash my hands,” he said quickly. He scrubbed his hands briskly at the kitchen sink, going on as he scrubbed: “Is there any way you can get some more light in there? Like a lamp or something?”
    “Aren’t you going to bring her into the clinic?”
    “Probably,” he said, keeping his voice level. “But not this instant. I want to try something first. And I do need a light, okay? Can you do that for me?”
    “Yeah, yeah . . . of course.” She vanished from the kitchen, returning a moment later with a lamp. “Is she going to be okay?”
    “I’ll know in a couple of minutes how serious it is.” Holding up his hands like a surgeon, he nodded toward the bag on the floor. “Could you bring that in for me, too? Just put the bag over there and find a place to plug in the lamp. As close to Molly as you can get, okay?”
    “Okay,” she said, trying not to panic.
    Travis approached the dog carefully as Gabby plugged in the light, noting with some relief that Molly was conscious. He could hear her whimpering, which was normal in a situation like this. Next, he focused on the tubular mass that protruded from her vulva and looked over at the puppies, fairly certain that whelping had occurred within the last half hour, which was good, he thought. Less chance of necrosis . . .
    “What now?” she asked.
    “Just hold her and whisper to her. I need you to help keep her calm.”
    When Gabby was in place, Travis squatted next to the dog, listening as Gabby murmured and whispered to her, their faces close together. Molly’s tongue lapped out, another good sign. He gently checked the uterus, and Molly twitched slightly.
    “What’s wrong with her?”
    “It’s a uterine prolapse. It means that part of the uterus has turned inside out, and it’s protruding.” He felt the uterus, turning it gently to see if there were any ruptures or necrotic areas. “Were there any problems with the whelping?”
    “I don’t know,” she said. “I didn’t even know it was happening. She’s going to be okay, right?”
    Focused on the uterus, he didn’t answer. “Reach into the bag,” he said. “There should be some saline. And I’ll need the jelly, too.”
    “What are you going to do?”
    “I need to clean the uterus, and then I’m just going to manipulate it a bit. I want to try to manually reduce it, and if we’re lucky, it’ll contract back in on its own. If not, I’ll have to bring her in for surgery. I’d rather avoid that if at all possible.”
    Gabby found the saline and the jelly and handed them over. Travis rinsed the uterus, then rinsed it