Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
He started to chuckle. “I met my wife, Meredith, when I was still in the Marines. She waited for me to get back, and by that time I was a completely different person. But she didn’t care. She was happy to have just me, and she helped me get better. If you don’t count the long separation while I was fighting in a war, we’d known each other all of two weeks before we tied the knot.” He mused, looking at me over his glasses. “Best decision I ever made.”
I smiled warmly at him. “Was it?”
He nodded. “She gave me three strapping boys. Those strapping boys gave me nine strapping grandsons. My Meredith died six years ago.”
My heart hurt for him.
“I’m so sorry to hear that.”
His eyes lit with an inner light. “It hurts, but I can deal. One day, we’ll be together again.”
He looked down at the dog then and nodded his head. “Good. You ready to start?”
“What are you going to do for him?” I worried.
“I’m hopefully going to fix his leg…but I don’t think it’s going to help. He lost a lot of blood, and this ol’ pup is well into his thirteenth year. Even if he does make it through surgery, I don’t think he’ll last long. He doesn’t have that much fight left in him.”
My heart broke for my friend.
As he worked, and I helped by handing him anything he needed, or offering suction when he needed it, we talked.
Eventually, we came to the subject I’d been curious about for a while.
Missing dogs.
“Have there been any reports of missing dogs?”
I was so curious.
“There was a mention of one. A security business that’s just outside of the city. But they were actually kind of thankful. The dog was a military dog. They got him after applying to adopt. They got him, but he came with a lot of work. They weren’t quite so happy with him like they thought they’d be. Personally, I think it was a burden that he was so much work every month. He had a disease that caused an overabundance of red blood cells to be produced. They had to bring him here once a month and get a pint of blood drained off of him or he’d die. They are old, and getting that big of a dog in the car was hard for them. And he didn’t like them on top of that. Kind of funny, actually.” He paused. “They only reported it, though, because one of the assistants up front called to remind them of an appointment, and they said the dog got out and hasn’t been back since.”
I smiled inside. “So, they’re not upset?”
The old doc shook his head. “Not in the least.”
“I would be,” I muttered to myself.
The old doc nodded. “I was. I liked him. He had character. It’s not every day that you see a dog that has seen action. I was proud to help him.”
“Where did you serve?”
“Vietnam,” he said simply.
“Did you know you always wanted to be a veterinarian?”
“No.” He laughed, a big, booming laugh. “I always wanted to be a mechanic. But I couldn’t tell a nut from a transmission. When I was serving, there was this dog. It broke my heart when he got hurt, and I wanted to help him. He died, but I didn’t forget. After I got out, I went to school. Which leads me to now.”
“How long have you been practicing?”
“Forty years. Forty-two, really. When the old vet in town died, the daughter took over the practice. She passed away a few months after she took over, and I was asked by a friend to continue it since I was the only man in four surrounding counties that knew what I was doing.” He sighed. “I’d been retired for six years at that point. And I told him that I would only do it for a short time. But there wasn’t anyone here at that time to take over. I’m just tired. I want to watch my cows eat. And my chickens cluck. I’m an old man.”
That got the wheels turning in my head.
“How long is veterinary school?”
“Seven to nine years if you're starting from scratch. If you have all your basic undergrad, it’s four years.”
I did have all my undergrad, at least. The rest I could get done in four years.
“Do you think you could hang on for four years?”
He looked thoughtful for a moment.
“I could...if I had help.”
He eyed me speculatively.
I grinned.
“You have a lot of help,” I pointed out.
“In fact, you only have part-time openings.”
We looked over a moment after I said that at the woman who was trying to carry a dog into the room. It was a Saint Bernard who had a leash attached to his collar. Instead of using the leash, she was trying to lift his front paws.