Free It's a Vet's Life: by Cathy Woodman Page A

create more time, an extra couple of hours here and there, so I could teach Shannon, and sit down and chat with Alex over a glass of wine more often than the odd occasion we’ve managed in the last few months. We used to do that, spend time together. Admittedly one or other of us was just as likely to fall asleep, but at least we had the opportunity, whereas now, with George acting like the passion police, any romance is wishful thinking.
    I glance towards the patient’s head. Even under anaesthetic, Saba still manages to look glamorous, with her neatly trimmed fur and her perfectly manicured paws, filed and possibly polished, that stick out from under the drapes.
    ‘How is Seven?’ I ask. In the background, on low volume, the radio is playing ‘Who Let the Dogs Out’.
    ‘He’s fine,’ Shannon says. ‘He hasn’t quietened down like you said he would though.’ I feel a little chastened at Shannon’s scepticism about whether or not I really know what I’m talking about, as she goes on, ‘He’s still molesting Daisy, even though he’s had his nuts off. Are you sure you removed all the right bits, Maz?’
    ‘Quite sure,’ I say, amused. ‘You were there when I did it.’
    ‘I couldn’t actually watch, not because I’m squeamish, but because it was Seven.’
    ‘It’s different when it’s your own,’ I agree. I notice Shannon’s wearing more eyeliner than usual. Black doesn’t really suit her complexion. She’s so pale that I sometimes wonder if I should suggest running some bloods to check for anaemia. ‘Are you okay?’
    ‘It’s the exam thing, that’s all.’
    ‘Are you sure there’s nothing else bothering you? Shannon , if you don’t want to talk to me, you can always try Izzy, or Emma, or Frances—’
    ‘Not Frances,’ Shannon cuts in. ‘She’d tell everyone.’
    ‘You could speak to your tutor at college.’
    ‘Maz, it’s nothing. Nothing much,’ she qualifies. ‘Actually, I’m worried about Mum … She’s been really down recently and she won’t go to the doctor, even though I’ve asked her to over and over.’
    That seems unreasonable of Bridget, I think, considering how Shannon’s already lost her father. ‘Would you like me to mention it – in passing, I mean?’
    ‘I’ll deal with it, Maz. I’ve had an idea.’
    Shannon says no more on the matter, so I change the subject.
    ‘What do you think of Will? Are you getting on all right?’
    ‘He seems … reasonable enough.’ She brightens. ‘He’s a bit of a geek. And all he talks about are his scorpions and tree frogs.’
    ‘Not really your type then?’ I say, grinning.
    ‘Definitely not. Maz, I haven’t got time for a boyfriend. I couldn’t anyway, not after Drew. Men are soooo not worth it.’
    Shannon sighs and I smile to myself. I don’t suppose it will be long until she changes her mind.
    Bridget brings Daisy in the same afternoon at Shannon’s request. Shannon and I take some blood and do a quick test for glucose before running some through the lab to check Daisy’s liver and kidney function.
    ‘Daisy, you look as if you’ve lost a bit of condition.’ I run my hands along her chest, where her ribs should be. ‘Shannon, we should try to get a urine sample.’ I give her a collection dish and pot, and send her out to the garden, wishing her every success.
    ‘You’ll be lucky,’ Bridget smiles. ‘Daisy’s very shy about that sort of thing.’
    ‘How is it going with the diet?’ I ask while we wait. ‘I mean, with Daisy’s diet …’ Talk about putting my foot in it. Bridget’s cheeks acquire a deeper hue. I wonder about her blood pressure – she’s far more likely to have a problem than Frances whose occasional high colour seems to have more to do with an affair of the heart than a problem with the arteries.
    ‘She’s always starving.’ Bridget shrugs. ‘Daisy’s like me. Neither of us are any good at sticking to a diet. Maz, if this is diabetes, what are we talking about,