TW: Animal neglect/abuse

“There’s our girl!” The Doc’s voice boomed out as Shelly slipped into the office and began to stow her things away in her locker. Jumping slightly, she spun and stared, wondering if something had happened to the dog overnight. But, she was pretty damned sure that he wouldn’t look so cheery if the dog had passed. She was equally sure that he wouldn’t have greeted her so jovially. So, okay. Time to relax and breathe.

“Why are you here when you should be in school, Ms Beane,” the Doc continued in a mildly scolding voice. “If our patient was anything less than stable, I would have let you know. I won’t hear of you sloughing off your education.”

Okay, the dog was doing pretty well under the circumstances then, Shelly thought or he would not have been play-scolding. He would have chased her out with a broom to try and spare her feelings. Venturing a smile, she shrugged.

“Sorry Doc, but after yesterday, I had to check on her. So she is stable and doing okay? She’ll recover?”

Motioning for Shelly to enter his office and sit, the Doc pulled out the chart for the rescued dog and slid it to her.

“My dear Ms Beane, she’s doing about as well as I could hope given the myriad of issues she came in with. We had to surgically remove that blasted chain around her neck along with her leg. And I took some initiative and spayed her as well. There was some evidence once I got in there of at least one if not more pregnancies. And given the condition in which she was found, I’m sure you can imagine what that could mean.”

Shelly could guess exactly what that meant and after all of the excitement and well, emotional trauma of yesterday, she felt more than a little nauseous. That poor, poor dog…

“Now,” the Doc sailed on, clearly wanting to pull her from those thoughts, “we’re going to be moving slowly with her. Malnutrition and starvation on top of everything else is quite a lot to be going on with. And we want her to recover and thrive. Therefore, I need to be certain that you know what you’re getting into once she’s ready to release into fostering. And don’t look so surprised. We all saw you with her and we have all seen you since you were small taking kittens to foster. We’re not blind, Shel.”

“You mean, I can have her? Really? What will she need?” Shelly spoke breathlessly. That everyone here had already decided that only she could take care of the dog touched her. And made her determined to not let them down.

“Well, who better? She trusted you, Shelly. Out of everyone in that room and the people involved in rescuing her, she. Trusted. You. And a dog’s trust is not anything to sneeze at. Once she’s ready to release, I’ll go over everything with you and your parents to make sure that she and the rest of your little menagerie are comfortable together. Just know that you’ll have to work on getting her weight up as well as used to only three legs.”

Practically vibrating with excitement, Shelly was already making plans in her head for the meals she would prepare and enrichment she could provide for the dog. As well as any tools she might need to help with mobility. She was so far off into her head that the Doc’s throat clearing startled her enough to make her jump and stare.
“Now, I know you’re still working on college applications and such. Have everything you need as far as that all goes? Because I think that this,” he flicked a paper from a folder and held it up, “should be included with any letters or essays you may write.” The Doc grinned. “Recommendation letters are helpful in the job market, why not with college as well?”

Seizing the letter, Shelly scanned it and began to cry soundlessly. The Doc had spoken so well of her and her drive and willingness to work and help. Even if the college boards didn’t care, she was going to treasure this letter forever.

“Thank you so much, sir,” she began in a shaky voice before stopping when he held his hand up.

“We all see you, Shelly and want you to do well. But for now, hold onto that. Now,” he boomed. “How would you like to see our little patient? She’s coming out of the anesthesia and I imagine a friendly face will help her feel more comfortable. She’s back in recovery if you’d like to n** along and say hello.”

Without waiting, Shelly set the letter on the desk, knowing it would still be there when she came back and then rushed from the office, sprinting for the recovery area. She saw knowing smiles and heard laughter as she passed by shelter staff. That was fine, they could smile and laugh all they wanted. She was over the goddamned moon.

Once at the door to the recovery area, she composed herself, adopting an air of serenity. Heading inside, she gloved and masked up per protocol and went straight for the kennel holding the dog. Opening the door, she reached inside, noting the dog’s drug dulled eyes. Well, that was all right. She was still hooked to an IV line. Softly stoking the dog’s muzzle, she heard a slow, muffled thumping and realized that the dog was doing her best to wag her tail. Tears leaking from her eyes again, Shelly just stood there talking nonsense as she stroked and smoothed what was left of the dog’s fur.

“I’m sticking by you till the end of time, pretty girl,” she cooed. “And no one is ever going to hurt you again.”

Word Count =970