| |
Mic’s gut told her something was wrong when she pulled her SUV into the vet's parking lot. Slade’s police cruiser was parked next to Dr. Vest’s car. I wonder why he's here. He didn’t call me on Dottie’s phone. She steadied her hands as fear tightened in her chest.
She walked into the vet's office and sat next to a lady who clutched a tissue in one hand. There was no one at the reception desk. Where is Slade? Where is Dr. Vest? Where is anybody? Mic wondered as hysteria paralyzed her body. Mic’s anxiety increased as she watched the lady next to her. She could see her shoulders shaking and knew she was crying.
Michaela stood up, touched her shoulder and asked, "Is there something I can do for you? Is there someone I can call? I think there's a drink machine at the end of the hall," she offered.
The lady raised her head and Michaela saw her tear-streaked face. She shook her head and said, "No, thank you. It's my dog. I think I'm going to have to put him down. They're telling me there's nothing they can do for him and I'm trying to make the decision about whether to do it." The woman's face crumpled and she reached for tissues from the table. She looked away from Michaela and blew her nose. "I'm so sorry," she apologized.
Michaela shook her head and her eyes filled with tears, "There’s no need to apologize. I feel the same way. I may be in the same situation. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I know you will make the right choice.” Mic paused for a moment and added, “I think... I think you just have to follow your heart."
The lady looked at her and said, “You know, isn't it funny how some people don't understand that our pets are our family members? One of my friends told me today, 'He's just a dog, we can get you another one.’”
Michaela was speechless and just shook her head. She said without thinking, "I think I'd rethink that friendship."
The lady nodded as the vet tech came to the door and motioned for Mic to come in.
"Ms. McPherson, could you come back? Dr. Vest wants to see you." the young receptionist said. "Mr. McKane is already back there."
"Yes, of course," Mic said as a feeling of dread permeated her body. She felt paralyzed and unable to stand but was finally successful. She touched the woman's shoulder as she passed and whispered, "I'm rooting for you."
Mic opened the door to Dr. Vest's office. Dr. Vest and Slade were sitting at a table. Slade's face was drawn and tight. Mic’s anxiety spiraled. “What’s wrong, what's wrong with Angel?" Her green eyes filled with fear and unshed tears. "Tell me. Is he okay?" Mic was panicked and unable to think.
Dr. Vest rose and pulled a chair from under the table for Mic. "Sit down, Michaela. Angel came through the surgery well. The wound should heal without any complications that I can foresee."
Mic said, "And... what then?” She looked at Slade, “Why are you upset then, Slade? I can see it in your face," Mic demanded, her green eyes focused on him.
Slade held Mic's green eyes with his dark ones. "There's a complication. A potentially complex one."
"What? Tell me." Mic demanded as her fear rose even higher.
"Angel's in renal failure. His blood work came back and his kidney blood values are high. He also has pancreatitis. He's sick," Slade said as he squeezed Mic’s hands in his.
Mic was frantic. "Renal failure? But how? He was stabbed in the leg? Not in the kidney? Why are his kidney's failing? What's gonna happen?" Her eyes darted between Slade and Dr. Vest as she searched for answers.
"I'm hoping he will recover," Dr. Vest said with a tight smile. "We're treating him with medicine and IVs. Hopefully, we can detoxify his kidneys and he'll get better. We'll know in a few days whether it’s acute or chronic kidney failure."
"Chronic? How could it be chronic? His kidneys were okay six months ago when he had his yearly physical," Mic insisted, her voice rising to a level of hysteria.
"Yes, I know. That's good. I hope it is acute renal failure. That's a better prognosis. He'll be better in a few days, hopefully," Dr. Vest added calmly. "If not, we'll treat him for chronic kidney disease."
"Can I see him? Is he awake," Mic asked.
"Of course you can. He’s been awake several times since his surgery. He's probably pretty groggy though, and he has a lot of pain medicine on board. We still plan to keep him doped up for a day or so."
"Okay, let’s go then," Mic insisted as she stood.
Dr. Vest opened the door to the ICU area of the emergency vet clinic. There were four patients. Angel was on the floor in a huge kennel. He had an IV in his front paw with medicine running through it. His hind leg was bandaged. Mic ran over, sat on the floor and called his name.
Angel lifted his head slightly and looked at her. His tail started to move slowly and Mic knew he tried to smile.
"Can you open the kennel so I can pet him?" she asked in a tearful voice as hope rushed into her soul.
"Of course. Here you go," Dr. Vest said. "You can stay with him as long as you like."
Mic reached inside and talked softly to Angel, stroking the fur on his neck. Angel sighed deeply and watched her. He tried to lift his head, but Mic persuaded him to lie back down. She laid her head in the kennel next to him and said, "We're gonna get through this, buddy, and I'm gonna take you home as soon as I can."
Angel licked her hand and Mic knew he’d smiled at her. She looked up at Slade and Dr. Vest and said, "I'm feeling good about this.”
Dr. Vest nodded. "Good. That’s great. You know him best. We're gonna get his blood again in a few hours and we can see if his kidney values have come down. If you’re here, I’ll tell you the results,” he promised. “But for now, I’ve got to go, I have another patient.”
Slade squatted down next to Mic and ruffled the fur on Angel’s back and neck. "Hey, he looks pretty good, Mic,” he said as he stroked her shoulder. “Not bad for a dog that was stabbed and had surgery a few hours ago,” he added.
Mic nodded and continued to stroke Angel’s back.
Slade scratched Angel’s ears for a few more moments and said, “I've gotta go, Mic. I need to go home and take a shower so I can get downtown for the FBI meeting."
Mic nodded. "Okay, take notes for me. I'm gonna divide my time between here and Dottie. Is there anything new happenin’? Anything I need to catch up on?"
Slade nodded and said in a low voice, "Yeah, FBI intercepted some internet chatter. Looks like it’s some sort of loosely organized terror group and they plan to hit us tomorrow... or today I guess it is now. We’re sure the man who attacked you is in the middle of all of it."
"But who and why?" she asked as she watched Angel's chest rise up and down.
Slade shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows? FBI thinks it's a Russian group. We'll know soon enough." He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "They'll take good care of him here. I'd like you to go home and get some rest. I may need you later today."
She smiled and said, "Yeah, okay, I will. Stay safe.”
“What about Dottie? How’s she?”
“They said she did well. Not out of the woods, but she’s doing pretty well. Just like Angel,” she murmured.
“Let me tell you something, Michaela. The Countess has about forty-two lives. She’ll be partying and hangin’ out when you and I are six feet under,” he said with a relieved smile.
Mic laughed, “Yep, she will be. No question.”