Page 32 of Knot So Sweet
"Let's focus on keeping him comfortable and happy for as long as possible," I suggest. "And when the time comes... we'll make sure it's peaceful."
Frank nods, blinking back tears he's too proud to shed in public. "Thank you, Doc. For everything."
After he leaves with Buster and a bag of heart medication, the clinic feels subdued. Violet is quiet, her smell carrying notes of sadness suggesting she was more affected by the interaction than she's letting on.
"You okay?" I ask.
"Hard to watch," she admits. "Frank loves him so much."
"He does. Buster's been his constant companion for years. It's never easy when we start having these conversations."
"How do you handle it? Knowing you're going to lose patients you care about?"
It's a good question, one every veterinarian grapples with.
"I try to focus on the good years," I tell her. "Buster's had thirteen happy years with Frank. A lifetime of love and care and companionship. And when the time comes, I'll be able to help him pass peacefully, surrounded by the person who loves him most. There are worse ways to go."
"I guess I never thought about it like this."
"It's part of the job. The hard part, but also the important part. Being there for people and animals during the difficult moments."
She nods thoughtfully, and I catch the way her smell has shifted again, because it’s less sharp sadness, more of warm honey sweetness suggesting she's processing something significant.
The late afternoon brings a few more routine appointments from vaccinations for a litter of puppies, to a wellness check for an elderly beagle. Later on she has appointments for a prescription refill for Dr. Chen's own border collie. Violet handles the scheduling and customer interactions with growing confidence, and I find myself genuinely impressed by how quickly she's adapted.
Around five, as I'm finishing up paperwork and she's organizing the reception area for tomorrow, she suddenly speaks up.
"I should tell you something," she says, not looking up from the appointment book. "About why I really need this job to work out."
"You don't have to tell me anything you're not comfortable sharing."
"No, I do. Because if this doesn't work out, I don't have a backup plan." She takes a deep breath. "My cousin Emma, the one in Dallas? She's struggling financially too. She lost her job last month, and she's got two kids to support. When I called her from the road, she tried to sound encouraging, but I could hear it in her tone. She can't take me in."
Now I understand the desperation. She's not looking for work, she's fighting to stay alive.
"So I can't fail at this," she continues. "I don't have anywhere else to go, and I can't afford to keep running. I need to make this work, even if I suck at the animal parts of it."
"You don't suck," I tell her firmly. "You had a bad reaction to cleaning up after a sick animal, which is completely normal. And you screamed when you unexpectedly encountered a snake, which is understandable. Neither of those things makes you unsuitable for this job."
"But I threw up. And I forgot half the prices. And I accidentally hung up on Mrs. Henderson."
"And you also showed genuine compassion for every customer, figured out creative solutions to their problems, and managed to calm down a cranky Persian cat barely tolerating its own owner. You've got good instincts, Violet. You just need time to learn the technical stuff."
She looks up at me then, and there's something vulnerable in her blue eyes making my alpha instincts flare with protective intensity.
"You really think I can do this?"
"I know you can. But more than... you mentioned you're a writer?"
"I was. I mean, I am. I used to do freelance marketing copy, web content, stuff like that. But I haven't worked in years, and I lost all my clients when..." She trails off, but I can fill in the blanks. When her ex destroyed her life.
"What kind of writing do you enjoy most?"
"I love feature articles. Human interest stories, community profiles, stuff like that. There's something about finding the heart of a story and sharing it with people... it makes me feel useful. Like I'm contributing something meaningful."
The excitement in her tone when she talks about writing is unmistakable. Her smell brightens too, those vanilla and honey notes blooming with genuine passion.
And just like this, I have an idea.
