Lovesick part 10
- Dr Clark? We’ve got an issue. When you’re done please head to your office. -
Rachel had buzzed the intercom in the OR. This wasn’t a normal occurrence, as policy and training advised all staff that unless absolutely necessary do not bother the staff in the operating room. For her to even relay that message meant Cheryl would be distracted during the entire procedure.
Into the trash bin the latex gloves went. Cheryl knew something was wrong, but she didn’t know what. The techs assisting in the surgery were skilled, licensed, and trained enough that they could close up the dog and transfer him over to recovery without her help.
The sight when she entered her office took her back. Sammy was seated in front of the desk, her knees pulled to her chest and Mocha almost suffocating her. Her eyes were red and puffy. She looks so small… While Sammy was only 5’4", she looked like a child, lost and hurt.
The chair rolled silently from the desk, “do you want talk about it?” Cheryl asked. Sammy just shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Mummah hab wowstest heawt huwties.” The brown pegasus quickly chimed in, “doktuw Chewuww hewp mummah? Mocha gibbin’ mummah bigges’ huggies…” As if to emphasize she gave Sammy the biggest hug her tiny fluffy body could, even her wings fluttered.
A soft knock on the door pulled Cheryl’s attention away, Rachel waved her out. Cheryl stepped out and closed the door behind her, “what happened?”
“Do you remember James? We gave his fluffy Buttercup some boosters while she was pregnant, gave birth to Star.” Cheryl nodded, letting Rachel continue. “Well, the father, I didn’t see anything about the stallion, he beat Buttercup and…”
Rachel paused, and Cheryl already had an idea of where this was going. They all worked at an emergency veterinary clinic and have seen some horrific things. “And the he went after the foal?”
“From what James said, yeah. I didn’t see Star, but, well… Sammy didn’t want to wait In case it was a real emergency… Neither did James. He rushed out of the room, said to send him the bill and took off.” Her hand covered her mouth, “I just… Mocha got away from me and ran to the exam room… Sammy put the foal down, and… It was bad. Dr Clark, it was real bad.”
Cheryl understood. While the technicians are trained in dealing with the emotional trauma, it doesn’t make it any easier. Counseling, grief counseling, proper coping mechanisms, none of that can fully prepare someone for the reality of the horrors they have to not only witness but attempt to fix. The tragic truth of the matter is that it’s impossible to not care for every animal that comes through their doors, and when they can’t leave under their own power it’s heartbreaking.
“Thank you, I’ve got it from here.” Cheryl ruled her practice with a kind yet firm hand, she knew when to be strict, and when a gentle caring touch was needed.
Cheryl sat back down at her desk, Sammy hadn’t moved, but Mocha was now coo’ing and rubbing against her face. “I’m not going to ask if you’re okay. There isn’t anything that can rationalize what you just experienced. We have all went through this, and it doesn’t get easier.” Cheryl sighed, “anyone that tells you that is lying. If you ever help a pet pass and it doesn’t hurt, then it’s time to leave.”
Softly, and muffled by Mocha’s fluff, “can I bury her?”
“Do you think you’re up to that?”
Sammy made a quick nod and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Okay. Rachel is off shift in a half hour, she can drive you home.” Cheryl held up her hand before Sammy could protest. “You are in no condition to finish your shift. In fact,” after several mouse clicks she picked up the phone, “Andrea? Hi, it’s Cheryl… Not good. We have a code white. Can you cover tomorrow? Yeah. Morning. Let me know tomorrow if you’d like the overtime or another day off.”
Code white. This was one of the things that separated Happy Paws and most other veterinarian clinics. It’s a request to have someone cover when a traumatic event puts a team member out of commission. Any employee can call a code white, and Cheryl cultivated the importance of remaining mentally and emotional healthy. Sammy, right now, was neither. Because of the nature, whenever a code white was called it was encouraged to help out as much as possible, as every employee had used it at least once.
“You are going to go home. Rachel will get you there. And you’re going to take tomorrow off.”
“But…”
“I swear to Christ, if you try to argue I’ll get the sorry stick.”. The matron of Happy Paws stood up and gave Sammy a reassuring hug. “Go home.”
Sammy nodded again, and unfurled, pulling herself from the chair. She still held tight into Mocha on her way out. Cheryl watched her sullenly leave the office, the door closing behind her.
Dr Cheryl sank into her chair, “well, fuck.”
The ride home wasn’t quiet at all. Mocha, while not understanding what was wrong with Sammy was filling the silence with usual fluffy babbling. From pointing out the “gweenie weafs” to “bestest sissy tu Noba.” Sammy was grateful that Rachel was spending the ride keeping Mocha entertained.
Rachel was kind enough to help Sammy get her fluffies into the house before taking off. It was odd that Jimi hadn’t greeted them at the door, but that thought quickly vanished, in her hand was the box with Star, and she had a job to do.
Mocha watched her mummah act weird. Ever since she had the worstest heart owies, she had been acting strange. And her brother was nowhere to be found, not that she looked any farther than the living room where she was released. Everything felt off.
Her new brother, Nova was on her back, or at least he was. She stood very still as he crawled from her rump to between her wings then up through her mane to perch on her head. He patted the top of her head with his tiny hooves and she started walking. He was still a tiny chirpy babbeh, but his eyes were open.
His eyes were a deep blue, his fluff as dark as the dark times. And his tail and mane had whisps, the tiniest strands of maroon. Even mocha had to admit that Nova was a prettier fluffy than Jimi, and Jimi was a very very pretty purple.
Her tail waved behind her, flopping side to side, it would forever have that sharp bend from when it was broken. She practically danced through the house looking for Jimi while Nova giggled and looked around, thoroughly enjoying this new mode of transportation.
“Jimi?” The two fluffies looked around the bathroom, “am yu hewe?”
“Peep chirp?!” Even Nova joined in.
Nothing.
Into the kitchen.
“Jimi in da kichun?”
“Peep peep chirp?”
Nothing.
“Am Noba a ‘spwowin’ babbeh?”
“Peep!” She couldn’t see his wings buzz happily, but she felt his hooves happily tap and his legs wiggle.
The only two places left were mummah’s room and the safe room. Both fluffies looked up at the door to mummah’s bedroom, it was closed and neither Mocha nor Nova could reach the handle. They moved on to the safe room.
Had Mocha been a smarter fluffy, she would have started their first, but she wasn’t. She pranced into the safe, “hewwo fabowite bwuddah!” She paused, “watchu doin obew dewe?”
Jimi was sprawled out on his bed with 'Tuffy, a sad look on his face. Spread eagle, the area between his legs was mostly bare, just a thin coating of purple fluff covering his former dangly bits with the pink flesh still visible. “Miss wumps…” He pulled himself up, “an su wonwy, Mocha nu unnastan.” He did a head toss, flipping his mane, part of the yellow fluff covering his eye, “Mocha an mummah nu unnastan, yu jus giwls.”
“Chirp!”
“Noba unnastans.” He made his way over to the pair, he nudged Mocha’s cheek and gave Nova a lick, “whewe mummah?”
Sammy sat cross legged in front a bare spot of disturbed dirt, the shovel jammed into the ground next to her. She wiped her hands on her scrubs and stared at the dirt under her fingernails. The tears had stopped, but she still felt raw and sensitive.
“Chirp!”
From the threshold of the back door stood her three fluffies with Nova still perched on Mocha’s head. With a sad smile, Sammy brushed some of the dirt off her scrubs. She did all she could for Star, the foal was not alone at the end, and was given a proper burial. “C’mere.”
Mocha went down the steps as slowly as Jimi, little Nova held on with his hooves and even had some of her mane in his mouth to keep from sliding off. Sammy and her three fluffies hugged under the single tree in her small back yard. It didn’t fix what she went through, but it was a start.
Image by Lemoncurds
