It's a Vet's Life: (15 page)

‘Did you have to rescue them?’

‘One made its own way back up. The other fell onto the rocks. It didn’t make it.’

‘Thanks, Tom. You’re so reassuring,’ I say, unsure if he’s winding me up deliberately, or if it’s his naturally blunt manner. He seemed reassuring at first, but I’m not so sure I’d choose him as an abseiling partner in the future.

I can taste salt on my lips, and feel my hair sticky and damp across my face. The sandy cliff crumbles away under my feet, and if I look down – I mustn’t look down – I can see the water rolling off the red rocks below.

Gradually, we make our way down to the ledge where Saba is lying on her side, facing out towards us. She takes one look at Tom and snarls.

‘Hey, Saba. What’s got into you?’ I say soothingly, at which she turns her eyes to me, appraising me as if to say, do I know you? She does. I hope she doesn’t remember the operations I’ve performed on her otherwise I’ll get the same reception as Tom. I’m not sure she’s that much danger to us though, because she doesn’t seem to be able to lift her head.

I edge towards her, and slip the muzzle over her face, fastening it carefully behind her ears, at which she yelps in pain. I’m not sure what to do. Tom was right. She’s paralysed, which suggests either a neck or back
injury
, and in an ideal world I’d strap her to a stretcher, but this isn’t ideal, sixty metres up on a narrow ledge. I give her shots of sedative and painkiller, and strap her neck instead, using splints and tape to immobilise it as far as I can, before Tom helps me get her into the safety bag ready to lift.

Saba snarls the whole way up, in spite of the sedation, so at first, I miss the fact that Tom is gesticulating and yelling at someone above our heads.

‘Get back, you –’ he curses.

I look up, catching the flash from a camera.

Tom glances towards me. ‘Some people!’

We continue our ascent, arriving safely at the top where I crawl through the rough grass well away from the cliff edge and throw up – with relief. I’m shaking. I did it. I actually did it. I’ve been over the edge.

‘Maz, I’m so grateful,’ Aurora says, coming over to me as I return to help Tom extract Saba from the bag. ‘You’ve saved Saba’s life.’

‘Don’t raise your hopes,’ I say, as I hold Saba’s head. ‘She’s safely off the cliff, but she’s critically injured. She’s damaged her spine and that means she may never be able to walk again.’

Aurora’s hand flies to her mouth.

‘I’m going to get her back to the surgery, X-ray her neck and operate if I can,’ I go on. ‘If not, I can refer her to the nearest specialist orthopaedic practice.’

‘I feel so guilty.’ Aurora is crying. ‘I’ve often walked her up here without a lead. She hasn’t done that before. You know, I hate that rabbit.’

I wonder about the rabbit’s fate. Did it manage to duck into a burrow and escape, or did it meet with a
sticky
end? Tom expresses his sentiments for the fate of the mystery photographer who has disappeared off in a small white van.

‘Do you have any idea who that was?’ Tom asks Aurora.

‘I think he said he was from the paper,’ she says nonchalantly.

‘How did he know we were here?’

‘There’s quite a crowd.’ Aurora points to the people who are dispersing now.

‘What a prat. There’s no way I’d have picked him up, if he’d fallen,’ Tom observes.

‘There’s a good case for having cliffs banned,’ Aurora says vacantly.

‘Thanks, my lover,’ Tom says, using the Devonian term of endearment which, when I first heard it, rather surprised me. Lots of people around here call each other my lover, when clearly they are not, but perhaps Tom has aspirations. He appears to have had a change of heart where Aurora, the thoughtless dog-walker is concerned, and I suspect it has much to do with her legs. ‘I’d be out of a job,’ he goes on.

Tom and I get Saba into the back of my car, and I drive her to Otter House where I park as close as I can to the entrance of the practice.

Shannon rushes out. ‘Shall I fetch more help?’

‘Please … and the stretcher would be useful.’

Shannon returns with Will, and Frances who doesn’t want to miss out on the action.

‘Shouldn’t you be looking after the phone?’

‘Don’t worry, Maz. I have it with me.’ Frances holds it up to show me. ‘I would never desert my post, except in the case of fire or flood.’ She smiles, remembering, I suspect, the occasion when we did have to vacate Otter
House
in a hurry during the Great Flood of Talyton nearly two years ago.

Will unrolls the stretcher in readiness for transferring Saba from the back of the car into the practice.

‘Will and I will lift the patient onto the stretcher,’ I say. ‘Shannon, you are in charge of keeping Saba as calm and as still as possible. It’s imperative we keep her head steady so she can’t move her neck. Will, I reckon she’s snapped her cervical spine in the fall, so this exercise could be purely academic. If she’s completely severed her spinal cord, there won’t be anything we can do.’

‘Poor Saba,’ says Frances. ‘Aurora must be distraught.’

‘She could turn up at the practice at any time.’ She wasn’t in a fit state to drive, and I think Tom and his team were keen to give her a lift back into Talyton. ‘If she does, can you make her one of your legendary cups of tea and supply some biscuits? She can wait for news if she likes, but it could be some time before we have any answers.’

We move Saba carefully, treating her like eggs loose on a tray, carrying her through to the prep bench.

‘There’s a good girl,’ Shannon coos. ‘What can I do, Maz?’

‘Stay with Saba. Will, can you do a full neuro exam, assess her reflexes and see if you can localise the site of the injury? I’m going to set up for some plain X-rays and a myelogram.’

‘Are you planning to refer her?’ Will asks.

‘If her condition stabilises enough to be able to transport her somewhere. Come on, Will. Get started.’

I try to infuse the team with a sense of urgency, and within half an hour, we have plenty of useful pictures.
As
I feared, Saba has broken her neck, chipping off the peg on the second bone that allows the head to turn, as if you’re shaking your head. If I don’t fix it, the bones will move relative to each other and damage the spinal cord irreparably. Saba will be paralysed from the neck down. If I do fix it, it may already be too late, or the surgery itself may cause further injury, and Saba might still be paralysed from the neck down. Either way, the odds aren’t great.

Will and I stand in the darkened X-ray room, looking at the films on the viewer.

‘I’m going to have to get the Meccano out. I’d like you to assist, Will.’

‘Have you done many of these before?’

‘One. A long time ago.’ I smile wryly. ‘It’s a bit of a risk, but it’s kill or cure. It’s all right – I’m pretty handy with a drill.’

I might think I’m handy with the drill, but I’m out of practice and pretty slow, and I’m apprehensive about operating so close to the nerves that supply the whole of Saba’s body from her neck down. This means that three hours later I’m still operating, tightening the screws in the plates that I’ve set across the bones in Saba’s neck to immobilise them. We X-ray again to check everything is in the right place using the X-ray machine that Will has dragged into theatre.

‘It’s all looking good,’ I say. ‘Let’s get her closed up, then we can get her into the big kennel and keep a twenty-four-hour watch on her.’

‘I’m up for that,’ says Shannon. ‘I’ll take first shift.’

‘I’ll take second,’ offers Will.

‘Great. I’ll do the third.’

‘Isn’t it your day off tomorrow?’ Shannon says.

‘I don’t mind,’ I say.

‘I’ll finish off for you now then,’ Will says. ‘You could do with a break, Maz, after your daring cliff-top rescue.’

‘Do you think it’ll be in the
Chronicle
?’ asks Shannon.

‘There’s every chance,’ I say with a sigh. ‘Someone took a photo over the edge of the cliff. Aurora said he was from the paper.’ I smile. ‘I didn’t have a chance to do my make-up, but it’ll be good publicity for Otter House.’ I pull off my gloves and call Aurora – Frances sent her home when she turned up earlier.

Finally, I head for home myself, and let myself into the Barn. Alex is in the kitchen area, wearing a red apron, and stirring something in a pan.

‘Hi, there,’ I call.

‘Hello, darling,’ he says, looking up.

‘Where’s George?’

‘In bed.’ Alex holds his finger to his lips. ‘Sh!’

‘Is he all right?’

‘Mother’s had him toddling around the stables all day. He’s exhausted.’ Alex walks round to join me. He gives me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

‘That’s nice,’ I say, turning to press my mouth against his.

‘I’ve cooked us some of that fresh pasta, and there’s a bottle of Rioja open on the side.’

‘Are we celebrating, or something?’

‘I suppose we are in a way. Your daring cliff-top rescue? I hear you’ve had an exciting day. I’ve health-checked some sheep, treated a horse with low-grade colic and diagnosed pregnancy in endless cows. There’s been nothing to raise my pulse today, apart from seeing you,’ he adds with a grin.

I smile back, reassured that he loves me, even if he doesn’t say it anywhere nearly often enough.

‘How did you find out?’

‘It’s all over town – I stopped to pick up some fruit and veg from the greengrocer’s. Peter told me. Bridget told him, and Aurora told Bridget.’ Alex pinches my bottom. ‘If I’d known in time, I’d have been there. I know how much you hate heights. In fact, I can’t believe you agreed to do it.’

‘I had no choice. Saba wouldn’t let the coastguard near her.’

‘How is the dog?’

‘Heavily sedated. Shannon and Will are watching her.’ I check the time. ‘I’m on the early shift from five.’

‘It sounds as though I’ll have to get you to bed early then,’ Alex says, his breath warm against my face.

‘That sounds like an excellent plan to me,’ I murmur.

‘How is she?’ I ask Will the next morning. Like me, he appears to have been up all night, his glasses smudged, his eyes dark with exhaustion and a bottle of some caffeine-containing power drink in his hand. He’s wearing the same shirt as the day before and has a tiny spattering of blood across his cheek where he must have nicked a patient’s artery when he was last operating, but hasn’t washed.

‘Will, you can’t have that in here,’ Izzy says, taking the bottle off him. ‘You know the rules.’

‘I’m sorry. I forgot. Anyway, back to the patient. Saba’s conscious, comfortable on painkillers, she has sensation in all four limbs, but she can’t support her weight. She wags her tail when you say her name.’

‘There are some positive signs then.’ I bend down to stroke her silky curls. She’s remarkably clean and bears a perfume that’s more Coco by Chanel than Eau de Chien. ‘Has she passed urine?’

‘She has a catheter. I put it in last night,’ Will says.

‘It’s early days yet, but I wonder whether she should be referred to a specialist for rehab.’

‘We could set up a pool for hydrotherapy in the garden,’ says Izzy. ‘Couldn’t we borrow a paddling pool from somewhere?’

‘It wouldn’t be deep enough, and it doesn’t sound terribly hygienic.’

‘What about the bath in the flat? We’ve used that for rehab before.’

‘I remember. The dachshund with the slipped disc. What was his name?’

‘Daffy.’

‘He pooped in what was my bath at the time,’ I point out. ‘We can’t use that.’

‘There must be a way,’ says Izzy. ‘Leave it with me. I’ll think of something.’

She finds me the number of a local hydrotherapist.

‘I don’t care how much it costs,’ Aurora says magnanimously, as I ask her about it when she comes in to see Saba later. She’s lucky – we’ve allowed her visiting rights as she is the only person Saba will take food from. ‘Saba has comprehensive health insurance that will cover it, and even if she didn’t, I’d find the money. My dog means everything to me. She’s more loving, more appreciative and more loyal than any man.’ She sighs. ‘I’m single, yet again.’

‘I’m sorry …’

‘Don’t be. He was good-looking, had money, but the sex wasn’t up to much.’ She smiles. ‘Oh, Maz, don’t be
embarrassed
. I thought you vets would have heard it all. Aren’t you marrying the delicious Alex very soon?’ I don’t want to talk about it, but she continues, ‘It was a smart thing to do, snagging him with an unplanned pregnancy.’

‘It wasn’t like that,’ I say, hurt.

‘I’m very grateful for what you and Will have done,’ says Aurora. Watch out, Will, I think, amused at the thought of Will and Aurora getting together. He’s so meek and mild that Aurora would have him for dinner, like a black widow spider. An eligible bachelor, professional with good prospects, a few years younger than her. I’m not sure how she’d take finding those exotic creatures in his flat though.

‘Oh,’ she goes on, ‘I’ve left a copy of the
Chronicle
with Frances. You and Saba are headline news. And there’s a nice mention of my shop.’