An hour later, Catrina comes out wearing her kind smile, two glass juice bottles in hand. “Apple is all we have,” she says. Grateful, I take one as she sits in the adjacent chair. “All is well. The patient is stitched and hopped up on pain medication. Doc gave him the rabies shot and the first injection of antibiotics. There’s a bottle of pills to finish the course—two weeks’ worth. You’ll wanna keep it in the fridge. You can hide it in a piece of cheese or sausage. Shouldn’t be too hard.”
“He eats everything,” I say. “Thank you so much.”
“Thank Liam. He did the hard parts. I just handed him stuff.”
“Still …” I finish the juice like a starved five-year-old and recap the emptied bottle. “Guess I was thirsty.”
“It’s been a long day.”
I nod and lean forward, hoping to keep the emotion hi
