Bittersweet Bites

Three

Anasoara:

"Hi Jane! Thanks for holding down the fort!" I say arriving to work an hour late.

I hold up a hand to stop her restless complaints, and hand her a Java Chip Frap from Starbucks.

"Aww... okay you can be forgiven because you brought me my favorite, but don't think you have gotten out of telling me what's going on?" Jane responds in between gulps.

"Now that you finally decide to grace us with your presence, little Milo, the Dachshund, did not fair so well with the surgery to remove his tumors. oh! and you are due in the OR... like now for the Husky!"

"Roxy? or the Siberian one?" 

"Roxy! The Siberian one needs another eval which I am going to send Karen in to do while I do the paper work. BTWs Dante is on front desk."

To this I no longer respond, thank goodness Jane did the surgery on Milo today that I was on deck for. That hazy club guy or whatever really messed up my WHOLE work schedule. My poor patients and employees! Thank goodness for Jane!

... ... ... 

Hours pass and I refuse to take lunch. I find myself furiously typing away to update the charts and reports, all the while avoiding give the sad news to Jen, Milo's caretaker. Around 1, I tell Jane to take the rest of the day off and I can run things to make up for this morning. She reluctantly agrees to my relief, and I spend the rest of the day monitoring Milo, dealing with intakes, another surgery, staff, and loads of paper work. Before I know it, it's way past 8 pm, our closing time, and I am still working. 

I find myself dealing with a terrified cat whom I name Salem, starved, hunched over, and defensive. The poor thing cannot help itself, it has never had love or a home. I think J might like to take him home. I put the little guy on a drip, with some anesthesia to help him chill while I finish cleaning him. After another hour, I am able to put him in a little overnight bed, and inform the night staff about the little guy before writing my report.

At around 9:30, right as I am about to call it quits, a person carrying a chihuahua rushes in obviously in distress.

"Sir! It's after hours, so if you missed your appointment..." Dante begins, but is cut off by the stranger.

"Look, I don't really care what you have to say. The little guy was found neglected and needs some serious help. Therefore, if you are putting yourself above his life, the I strongly suggest you reconsider!"

"Sir," I interject.

"What's going on with him? I am the Vet on call"

And Just like that, 9:30 became midnight due to scans, emergency surgery, reports, meal plan, recommendations... you know the whole nine yards. Walking out of the clinic looking like a zombie, but feeling like a hero I finally head home.

Unkown POV 2:

I watch her head home planning on making sure that this is the last time she tries to escape us! Imagine, a woman besting la familia?  La migliore mafia d'Italia? (The best mafia of Italy?) No! Never! Since she ran off with her traitorous mama, and took her name, we have been searching. She may be half her, but il sangue d'italia (blood of Italy) runs through her, and she can never leave la familia.