Page 6 of The Grumpy Vet
My stomach growls loudly, and it draws Dario's focus away from the koala to me. "I can take over. Sounds like you need some food."
"Is it lunch time?"
"It's two thirty."
The smell of blood and damp fur clings to the air. There's no way I can leave this poor fella. I don't have it in me. If an animal is injured, I'll work through hunger, exhaustion, anything, to help in any way I can. "Let's do this together."
"Okay."
Dario grabs the oxygen mask, holding it over the koala's tiny face while I work fast, cutting away dead tissue and flushing out dirt and saliva. The wounds are fresh but filthy, and if we don’t clean them out fast, infection will take hold. Dario keeps the oxygen mask firm over the koala's nose, sharply focused on the slow, uneven rise of the creature's chest.
I grab the suture kit and get to work, sealing each wound with quick, precise movements. The koala twitches, its ears flicking slightly.
"Stay with me, mate," I mutter to our patient, working fast, stitching up layer after layer, my fingers moving on years and years of practice.
The koala twitches again, a faint sound escaping its throat, and I glance at Dario. There's a flash of hope in his olive eyes. He gives a small nod. "Keep going. We're going to save him."
Hell yeah we will.
I tie the final stitch with a sharp tug as Dario adjusts the IV, then I take a step back. That's all we can do for the poor guy. Now it's up to him to fight.
Now we wait.
"I'd like to say this has been an unusually busy day…but that'd be a lie," I say to Dario ten minutes later in the staff lounge slash admin slash general office slash change room slash dumping ground for everyone's shit.
I'm standing over the sink, scoffing down a ham, tomato, and cheese sandwich and trying not to burn my mouth on a cup of Earl Grey.
"You shouldn't eat while standing," Dario says, seated at the dining table.
I turn around to face him. "And why's that?"
"It's bad for your digestion."
"Sounds like bullshit to me."
"Can also lead to bloating and gas." He tips his chin up and smirks. "I guess I'll be the judge of that in about ten minutes."
And there it is. Thatedge. I don't know the guy well enough to know whether he's legit giving me shit or if it's just his twisted idea of being funny. We have a lot of that going on around here,and it did take me some time to get used to everyone’s distinct sense of humour.
"That so?" I reply, shoving the rest of my sandwich into my mouth, chewing, then testing him to see how he responds to, "And here I was thinking you were concerned about me."
His face remains stoic as he says, "Wouldn't be a good look if my boss died on my first day at work…Again."
A grin tugs at my lips before I can stop it. "Don't worry about that. I ran a background check on you, and your record is clear. Your secret is safe with me."
"So you're saying there wasn't any need for me to lace your tea with arsenic?" he says at the precise moment I lift the mug to my lips.
"There really wasn't." I take a long sip. "But I sure am glad I installed video cameras in here that record everything. Including audio, in the event anyone should say something incriminating."
His eyes stay trained on me for a few long seconds before a low laugh escapes him. "Well played, Linus. Well played."
His words sit strangely. I'm not really a playing type. Never have been. The guys around here have got banter and shenanigans covered. I'm happy observing and stepping in as necessary whenever an adult is needed. That's as close as I get to having fun. I'm the cool head. The boring boss. A pretty miserable bastard who lives a pretty miserable life.
I'm a sixth-generation Scuttlebuttian. I didn't so much as inherit the clinic as it was just naturally assumed I'd take it over from my father when he retired since I'm an only child, and if not me, then who?
My father is an imposing, rigid, and cold man. Despite being a vet and saving so many people's animals and pets, he's never been a popular figure around here. People respected him more out of politeness or obligation than anything else. But they never liked him.
I feared him as a child, came to respect him as I grew older, even though distance remained between us, and only now, as he wastes away in that godawful hospice, am I seeing his frailty for the first time. His vulnerability.
