Acting Out (8 page)

Jules leans in. “Does Dr. Mac think it’s antifreeze with him, too?”

“She doesn’t know yet,” David says, finally looking up. “We’ll see.”

The talk of Rover makes me remember how crucial our timing is. I stand up. “We need to get going.”

“Where?” Jules asks.

“Right here.” Maggie points to the area of the map that the strings converged on. “We’ll look for spilled antifreeze.”

“We can have some adults drive us over,” Sunita suggests.

“I’m on it,” Brenna says, pulling out her phone once more.

A few minutes later, we have a plan. Brenna’s dad will pick up four of us, and Mr. Darrow will
take the rest of us over to Beltzville Lake. We gather up our clipboards and paper. Josh decides to bring the map and corkboard because they will fit in his dad’s van.

When Brenna’s dad arrives, he has some bad news for us. A couple of sick great blue herons have been brought to him, and he thinks it could be the antifreeze again. We have no time to lose.

At the lake we divide into two groups. My group consists of Jules, me, David, and Mr. Darrow. Brenna, Josh, Sunita, Maggie, and Mr. Lake are in the other group.

Mr. Darrow has brought flashlights from Wrenches & Roses, and he hands them out to a few of us in each group. “I know it’s light out, but these might help detect the liquid’s sheen,” he says.

The air is warm for April, and people are relaxing at the lake. Lots of people have brought along their dogs and kids to enjoy the day. I see a group of teenagers fishing and a golden retriever paddling near the lake’s edge. Nearby, a girl tosses a Frisbee to her cocker spaniel. He runs, leaps, and gracefully catches it. I wonder if we should warn anyone. But no, we don’t want to make people panic. We should just try to find the antifreeze as fast as possible.

First, we scour the huge parking lot. Spilled
antifreeze seems likely to be where cars usually are. We shine our flashlights around the empty spaces, hoping to pick up some sheen from the antifreeze. The flashlights are also helpful for looking beneath the cars parked around the lot. It’s a good thing Mr. Darrow thought to bring them.

Unfortunately, though, the flashlights don’t turn up any antifreeze. After a half hour of searching, we’ve found nothing. We decide to move closer to the lake.

We spread out to cover more space and step carefully as we search the ground. We sweep our flashlights from side to side. My group moves east from the parking lot toward the boat launch along the shoreline. The other group will move west along the shoreline from the parking lot toward the playground. If we don’t find anything on that pass, we’ll move farther from the shore and search again.

“What’s this?” David asks, investigating a patch of wet ground beside a storage shed.

“There’s no sheen to it,” Jules says, passing her flashlight’s beam across it.

We trace a trail of wet earth back to a dripping faucet on the far side of the shed.

“Just water,” David sighs.

Mr. Darrow turns the faucet tight to the right
and the drip stops. If only we could stop the antifreeze leak just as easily.

“At least we’ve stopped some water waste,” I say to David. He looks disappointed.

We scan the beach to see where the other group is. They’re pretty close to the playground, and it’s easy to tell by their methodical walk that they haven’t found anything yet, either. I’m starting to feel discouraged. I wonder if we will turn up anything at all. Back at Wrenches & Roses this had seemed like such a good plan.

“Once we get to the boat launch, will we start another pass?” David looks at me.

I nod.

But it turns out we don’t have to make a second pass, because as we near the boat launch we see two things. One: a big black dog. Two: the big, shiny neon-green puddle he’s sniffing.

D
on’t shout, whatever you do!” David says in a low voice. “We don’t want to scare him. If he’s a stray, we might lose him.”

He’s right, but it’s so hard not to run right at the dog. What if he drinks the antifreeze? Mr. Darrow motions that he will go around the boat launch on the shore side. Jules follows and quickly peels off to move to the far side of the dog. David and I are coming up in front of the dog. Hopefully this won’t give him any opportunity to get past us.

We all approach the dog quickly but quietly. The puddle is fluorescent green and so bright that it almost glows. Then I hear a voice coming from right beside me.

“Hey, boy, sit!”

The dog sits.

“Come!”

What? It’s David, calling the dog. David, who told us not to shout!

I stare at David, but his eyes are trained on the dog, who doesn’t move. He cocks his big black head to the side and stays sitting. He opens his mouth and his big red tongue hangs out.

David kneels down and slaps his thighs. “Hey, boy, come,” he repeats.

The dog looks back at the antifreeze but trots right over to David.

“Good boy, good fella,” David coos, scratching the dog’s neck.

Yes! We’ve got him. “How did you know he wouldn’t get scared?” I wonder.

“I noticed that he has tags on, so he must be somebody’s pet. I figured he would know commands, so I took a chance,” is all David says. Jules and Mr. Darrow hurry over to us.

“Well done, David,” Mr. Darrow says.

“I wonder if his owner is anywhere around?” Jules asks, scanning the lakeshore.

“More importantly, has he licked up any of that antifreeze?” I ask.

We look closely at the dog. He’s wet all
over—from the lake, no doubt—so it’s hard to tell if his muzzle is wet from the antifreeze or from water. His dark coloring makes it especially difficult.

“I think we’d better let Dr. Mac take a look, just to be safe,” Mr. Darrow says. David turns around and whistles for the other group.

As soon as everyone else arrives, we fill them in on what happened. Maggie immediately bends down to pet the dog.

“Oh, boy, good, good, boy, you don’t mind if I take a look, do you?” Maggie croons to the dog. I’m not sure what she’s thinking when she takes a tissue from her pocket. She quickly wipes his muzzle and shows us the damp tissue. Uh-oh. It’s stained a yellowish green.

Maggie straightens up. “I don’t know if he ingested any of this, but he definitely sniffed it and touched it with his mouth.”

“Great thinking, Maggie,” Mr. Darrow says.

“Your experience shows,” Mr. Lake adds.

Maggie and David both knew what to do with the dog. I’m a little disappointed that I didn’t. But, I did figure out this plan in the first place. And I just know everyone will be excited about the PSAs. I can feel it.

Maggie reaches down and checks the dog’s tags.
“His name is Jet,” she informs us. “You’re a good boy, Jet!” She ruffles the fur around his collar.

Mr. Darrow takes a look at the phone number on the tags and calls Jet’s owner. He explains what happened. Apparently Jet got away when his owner, Mr. Jenkins, took his leash off to let Jet roam. He’s on the other side of the park, so Mr. Darrow gets permission to bring Jet in to Gran, and Mr. Jenkins will meet us there. And it turns out that Jet is a patient at Dr. Mac’s Place anyway.

Once Mr. Darrow gets off the phone, he turns to the group.

“While I’m with Jet at Dr. Mac’s, the rest of you kids can help by cleaning up that antifreeze spill. I have rubber gloves in the van and you’ll all need to wear them and be very careful. Antifreeze can be absorbed through the skin.”

Mr. Lake nods his head in agreement. “I’ll supervise, and then I’ll call the authorities to let them know what we found.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Mr. Darrow replies. “David, Zoe, would you like to come with me? Jet seems to be comfortable around you two.”

“Sure!” we say in unison, and hop in the van.

On the way to the clinic, I compliment David again on his quick thinking with the
commands. “He might have run from us if you hadn’t thought of making him sit.”

David smiles.

We’re in the backseat of the van with Jet on the floor between us. The dog doesn’t seem to mind the car ride.

David rubs Jet’s wet neck. “Well, for a while I had plenty of experience with practicing doggie commands on my cat.” He furrows his brow and turns toward the window. Even if he won’t let me see his face, I know that he’s hurting.

“We’ll be at the clinic soon. Maybe Gran has some answers for you,” I say. I pet Jet and hope, hope, hope, that both this dog and Rover will be fine.

Mr. Jenkins is already at the clinic when we arrive. Gran takes him and the dog into the Herriot Room.

“Need me?” I ask my grandmother.

“I’ll call if I do. Clean the kittens’ cage, won’t you?”

I go back into the recovery room to work with the kittens. In a month or so, they should be ready for homes. Gran says they’re all getting stronger. Even the little calico looks good.

David follows me but doesn’t help with the kittens—not that I need him to. He doesn’t joke, doesn’t talk. He just opens Rover’s cage and
pets his cat gently. Rover is still not himself, and neither is David. I turn my attention to the meows beside me.

My friend and I spend the next twenty minutes in silence, as I clean the cage and David keeps Rover company.

Eventually, Gran brings Jet back to the recovery room.

“We’ll keep him overnight for observation,” she says. “I can’t be sure yet if he actually ingested the antifreeze or if he was only curious enough to get it on his muzzle.”

I see that Gran has inserted an IV into Jet’s front paw. She notices me looking at it and explains, “This will help if he did get some of the antifreeze, and it won’t hurt if he didn’t.” Jet doesn’t seem to mind. He’s looking sleepy. Gran must have given him an anesthetic in the Herriot Room.

After Gran puts Jet in one of the big dog cages, she talks quietly to David and then leaves to do some paperwork in the office. I couldn’t hear what they said, but I don’t think I’ll ask David, either. He doesn’t look terribly conversational yet. I’m long finished with the kittens’ cage, and it’s not quite time to feed them. But I stay with David in case he wants company.

The rest of the Vet Volunteers return from the
lake about an hour later. They wander back into the recovery room.

“So what’s up with Jet?” Josh asks.

David speaks up. “Dr. Mac isn’t sure if he actually drank any antifreeze. She’s keeping him for observation.”

“And how is Rover?” Josh asks David.

“Still lethargic. Dr. Mac has done blood tests, a stool sample, and she’s checked enzymes. It doesn’t look like antifreeze poisoning—”

“That’s a relief!” Sunita interrupts.

“But we still don’t know what’s wrong with him,” David continues. He closes Rover’s cage and walks dejectedly out of the room.

Nobody says anything. Maggie checks the hanging chart on the kittens’ cage.

“I cleaned their cage,” I tell her. “I don’t think I marked it off, though.”

Maggie checks the box on their chart that I should have. Brenna pets a sleeping Jet through his cage door.

“Almost done with these guys,” Maggie says to Sunita as they prepare the kittens’ bottles.

“What’s happening with them?” I ask.

Sunita smiles and answers happily, “They’re doing great! We have homes lined up for all five, once they’re old enough to be adopted.”
She tests the temperature of the formula and scoops up a kitten.

Josh says, “That’s great news. At least we know we’ll have a happy ending with them.” He leaves. I wonder if he is going to find David.

But right now what I really want to know is more about the antifreeze puddle. “Any thoughts on how that antifreeze got to the lake?” I look at the others.

Sunita nods. “Brenna’s dad has a pretty good idea of what happened. It makes such sense.”

Brenna continues, “The antifreeze was right beside the boat launch. My dad said that people use antifreeze to winterize their boats and then flush the antifreeze out when they’re ready to use the boat again in the spring.”

Maggie adds, “Someone must have flushed it right there at the launch and not cleaned it up.”

“And too many animals found it.” Sunita’s eyes tear up.

“So this was probably the work of an irresponsible boat owner,” Maggie says. She closes the kittens’ cage and writes on their chart.

Which means that now it’s more important than ever that we get the word out about antifreeze. It’s time to work on my PSA project with the Vet Volunteers.