Free My Sunshine by Catherine Anderson Page A

patient.
    When the artery was clamped, he met Susan’s questioning gaze. “How’s Laura Townsend doing?”
    â€œSo far, so good,” Susan replied. “You know the boxer with the attitude problem? When she opened the gate to his kennel I about had a heart attack, but all he did was lick her to death.”
    Isaiah chuckled. “Has a way with dogs, does she?”
    â€œBig-time. Even that nasty little Pomeranian likes her.”
    â€œWe need someone good with animals back there,” Isaiah observed.
    â€œAmen. Her biggest problem will be caring too much,” Susan predicted. “I don’t know how she’ll handle it the first time she gets a ‘dead dog walking’ order.”
    Isaiah hated to put down an animal himself, but he had long since come to accept it as a necessary evil. When nothing more could be done to ease an animal’s suffering, euthanasia was the only merciful option.
    â€œYou think she’ll be able to handle the work?”
    Susan planted her hands on her broad hips.Under the gruff exterior she was a marshmallow, one of the kindest and most caring people Isaiah knew. “My money says she’ll do fine,” she replied. “Been a nasty morning. Puke, shit out the yang, and a hemorrhage to top it all off.”
    â€œA hemorrhage?”
    â€œThe little red cocker miscarried.”
    â€œThat really old dog?” the anesthesiologist asked.
    â€œThat’s the one,” Susan confirmed. “It’s sad that she lost her puppies, but she’ll be better off. Tucker had to spay her. People who keep breeding animals when they get that old are crazy. I just don’t get it.”
    â€œThey’re not crazy,” Belinda inserted. “They’re just mercenary. If the cocker had whelped seven pups, they would have sold for four hundred dollars apiece, possibly more.”
    â€œMore.” James Masterson, a tall, stocky twenty-year-old with brown hair and baby-blue eyes who’d begun training as a tech assistant a year ago, drew a blanket from the warmer. “My mom paid six hundred for a cocker last month. Run the numbers on that, why don’t you?” He grinned and winked at Belinda. “Two litters a year would put a serious dent in my rent.”
    â€œMine, too.” Belinda pursed her lips. “Seven puppies. My God, that’d be forty-two hundred dollars! Maybe I’ll move where I can have a dog and become a breeder.”
    â€œI’d never breed an old dog,” James said, “but I can’t see any harm in breeding a young, healthy one. If nothing else, it’d help to cover the vet bills.”
    â€œI’m just glad the little cocker’s whelping daysare over,” Susan said. “If her owners want to continue making money on the side selling puppies, they’ll have to buy another bitch.”
    â€œHow did Laura handle all the blood?” Isaiah asked.
    Susan shrugged. “I think she panicked a little at first.”
    â€œDoesn’t everyone?” Angela chimed in. “How’d she do once she calmed down?”
    â€œBetter than most trainees. When I needed help, she jumped right in and did what I told her.”
    Isaiah was pleased to hear that. “I had her figured for a gutsy lady. Nobody could come through what she has without having plenty of backbone.”
    â€œWho’s this you’re talking about?” Belinda asked as she handed Isaiah the stapler.
    â€œLaura Townsend.” Isaiah quickly closed up. “Susan’s training her for the kennels.”
    â€œOh. I didn’t know Val hired anybody.” Belinda drew the paper pad closed over the contaminated surgical implements. “That’s good news. We never have enough kennel people.”
    â€œActually, Val didn’t hire her,” Isaiah corrected. “I did.”
    Belinda raised her eyebrows. “ You? I thought Val handled all that.”
    â€œNormally