Samantha's Talent (29 page)

"Oh, the poor thing. I'll be glad to help you if I can."

"Come along, then. With your permission, Elaine?"

She smiled a little wearily. "She really should rest but I'd never hear the last of it if I told her she couldn't help you. Go ahead, Sammie."

"Thanks, Mom!" Samantha and the veterinarian left together.

"I hope all that publicity wasn't off base, Elaine. Whit is usually a pretty jolly fellow but he takes a dim view of anyone who sails under false pretenses."

"I'm sure Sammie won't disappoint him."

Whitmeyer led Samantha out of the large administrative building by going through a long hallway that exited in the back and led onto a covered walkway. It terminated at another low structure that looked as if it had had several additions added to it over the years.

"This is both the hospital and recovery area. There are fenced-off areas behind it where recovering animals can move around before we turn them back into the wild."

"Do they all go back?"

"Most do. We try to discourage them hanging around or we'd be overrun, but many of them come back to see us when they get hungry, especially during the winter. Ah, here we are."

They entered a white-painted room that contained a small and large operating table, several cages of varying sizes used for animals that had been treated but weren't well enough to get along unassisted and a locked narcotics drug cabinet. There were numerous glass-fronted cupboards that contained surgical instruments, non-prescription medicines and other items used by the profession as well as exhibits of animals with different wounds and diseases. There was also a large refrigerator and a small nook of an office with a computer desk, chair and file cabinets.

"And here's our patient," he said, stopping beside a cage on the floor. A half-grown male bobcat spit furiously at them from inside the cage. An arrow had gone all the way through its back leg then been broken off. Its whole leg was streaked with blood and dirt.

Samantha knelt down so that she could face the cat. It backed away from her but kept turning its head any time Whitmeyer moved closer. "The problem is that I want to anesthetize it but I'd prefer to do it intravenously rather than give it an IM shot and then have to chance it waking up on me while I'm operating. And, I'm not even sure if I can get a needle in it, IM or not. Every time I try, it backs away from me or turns around in the cage."

She knew IM meant intramuscular from working with Dr. Summers. She looked up at him. "You said you'd rather do it intravenously?"

"Yes, but I doubt we could hold him down even with both of us using heavy gloves, aside from the dilemma of trying to give a shot with animal-handling gloves on. That doesn't account for the fact that these cats are incredibly strong, even when they're as young as this one is. Just try wrestling with one sometime!"

"Let me talk to him," she said. "Bobcat, what's your name?"

The animal snarled again. To her, it sounded like
Go Away!

"No, I won't go away. We're going to help you get well and quit hurting but first tell me your name."

The wild cat cocked its head and stared at her.
Fushshy.
She immediately shortened its name to
Fussy
since that's how it almost sounded anyway. She had to make an effort not to laugh.

"Alright Fussy, the doctor needs you to come out of the cage. After that I'll lift you up to a soft place so we can help you and make the pain go away."

Leg hurts.

"I'm sure it does but it's going to hurt even worse if you don't let us help you. Will you come out? Please?"

It considered for a moment before answering,
Yes.
It was just a sound to the doctor but Samantha heard the affirmative reply. There was a lot of pain in the sound.

"Okay, I'm going to open the cage then you come to me and let me lift you." She looked up at Whitmeyer. "I'm going to open the cage. Which bed do you want him on?"

He had been practicing veterinary medicine for many years but this was the strangest situation he had ever found himself in. He certainly didn't want to let a wounded bobcat loose but the girl sounded so sure of herself. Her attitude and what he had heard about her convinced him to go along with the request. He pointed to the nearest operating bed. "Put him there. Do you want gloves?"

"No, I won't need them." She opened the latch of the cage and slid the front of it up and locked it into place. "Alright Fussy, come to me and I'll lift you up."

The bobcat made not a sound but it took one limping step forward, then another and another until it was directly beside Samantha. "Here we go now. Hold real still." She slid her arms under him and lifted him up to her chest then carried him to the operating bed and set him gently down upon it. She petted him and scratched behind his ears and put her face down to let him rub against it. After that she got him to lay down with his wounded back leg up. She looked at the doctor then. "Are you ready?"

"Will he hold still for an intravenous shot?"

"Yes. Go ahead. No, wait, will you need to use a tourniquet?"

"Maybe not. He's a pretty big fellow, even half-grown."

Samantha took one of the bobcat's front legs and slowly stretched it out on the bed. "Now, Fussy, the doctor is going to look at your front leg so hold still for him."

The cat held perfectly still as the Doctor's gentle hands explored the musculature, tendons and veins of its foreleg. "I've found a vein here, I believe. Shouldn't have to use a tourniquet if he won't move when I stick him."

"He won't. Fussy, the doctor is going to make your front leg hurt just a little bit and then you'll go to sleep. When you wake up the sharp stick in your back leg will be gone and you'll feel much better." She repeated herself twice to make sure Fussy understood then nodded to the veterinarian. "Go ahead, Dr. Whitmeyer."

He bent over and inserted the needle deftly into a vein and slowly injected an anesthetic. The cat's eyes blinked once or twice and then he relaxed. His head dropped to the table and he was asleep.

"Amazing," the veterinarian murmured as he began to work. Samantha put on a pair of gloves unasked and assisted him as he flushed the wound thoroughly, gave the cat an antibiotic shot and bandaged the wound. "Okay, now let's carry him to one of the larger cages and leave him some water and food. He'll be real thirsty from the effects of the anesthetic when he wakes up."

Samantha helped transport the limp body of the bobcat to a large cage, then couldn't help but worry what Fussy would think when he woke up and she wasn't there. "Would you mind calling me when he begins to wake up, Doctor Whitmeyer? Fussy will want some reassurance then, I think."

"I will if you'll quit with the Doctor Whitmeyer business. Just call me Whit like everyone else does."

"Alright, Whit," she smiled but it was hard to call the gray haired man by his first name, especially him being a doctor of veterinary medicine. He seemed not to care about status, though.

***

After visiting another half hour or so with the Director, Elaine said they needed to go since they had to stop by the little country store on the way back.

"He said he'd call when Fussy woke up, Mom, but if we're in the cabin will you drive me back here?" Samantha asked.

"I've got a better idea," Tom said. "Why don't you both stay overnight, or for that matter stay until Mr. Douglas arrives."

"We don't want to inconvenience you and all our goods are at the cabin. I'll just drive Sammie back when Whit needs her."

"Okay, but before you go shopping, I took the liberty of stocking the pantry and refrigerator of the cabin with a good supply of food. Just count it as a bonus for signing up with us."

"Thank you so much. We'll--"

"I think Fussy is waking up now, Sammie," Whit said as he returned to the den. "It's a bit sooner than I thought but I didn't give him a big dose of anesthetic to begin with."

"Oh, good, I won't have to come back then. Mom, I'm going to go help Dr. Whi--I mean help Whit with Fussy. Is that okay?"

"Go ahead." She chuckled. "Tom, we may wind up spending the night whether we want to or not."

"Maybe I could just take Fussy back to the cabin with me," Samantha offered.

"Let me think about that and talk to Whit about it first. You'd better run now if he's waking up."

Fussy was already conscious enough to be raising his head briefly to look around then laying it back down. The cage was on an elevated stand for easier access so that Samantha had to bend only slightly to talk to him.

"Fussy, how do feel now. Does your leg still hurt?"

Hurts when move.

"He says his leg hurts when he moves it, Whit."

"That's natural. Tell him he needs to move it some, though, so it won't stiffen up on him."

She told the bobcat what Whit had said as well as she could. He didn't reply but did manage to stand up, favoring the wounded back leg. He went directly to the water dish and drank deeply, lapping and lapping as though he hadn't drank in a week.

"I think that's enough water for now, Fussy. You'll get sick if you drink any more now." Fussy looked up then came back to the front of the cage where Samantha waited.

The veterinarian stared at her. He had intended to tell her the same thing but obviously Dr. Summers had been accurate in his description of the things she had learned working with her. Instead, he said, "Sammie, this is a wild cat, not only by the name some people call his species, but he was raised in the wild. I doubt that he would stay with you very long and I'd like to watch him for a few days before turning him loose."

"May I ask him what he wants?"

He shrugged. "Go ahead," he said then chuckled. "My colleagues would think I'd gone bonkers if they heard me telling you to ask him what he'd like to do."

"I know," she replied. "I'm used to it. Let's see what he says." She bent toward the cat. "Fussy, would you like to go live with me and Shufus, my dog?"

Want to go.

"Yes, but you still have to let your leg get well. You can either stay here in the cage or go with me and Shufus."

Fussy touched his nose to the very front of the cage. Shufus raised up and put his paws on the edge of the table so that he could look directly at the animal Samantha was talking to. Fussy backed away a step then stopped and stared at the dog.

"It's okay, Fussy. Shufus is my friend. He wants you to be friends, too. Stay with us and my Mom and Dad and we'll feed you and give you water. You have to do as I say, though."

After repeating the offer, the bobcat made up its mind. It was still young enough to remember its mother, although somewhat vaguely. It did understand that Samantha wanted to take care of him until he was well.
Friends. Go.

"He says he wants to go with us."

"Will he obey you if we take him in to talk to your mother?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you know how to give shots?"

"Yes, sir. Dr. Summers taught me."

"Okay, he'll need one more antibiotic shot and probably a couple of shots for the pain. He'll need to exercise gently several times a day to keep his leg healing correctly. If you can take care of all that and your mother approves, then he can go with you, even if I am having a hard time believing he understands everything you say."

"He understands enough of it to do as I ask him to, and he understands that I'm going to take care of him until he gets well."

"Okay then, lift him out of the cage and tell him he needs to walk for a little ways."

She did so, lifting him down to the floor. He stood in place while Shufus sniffed noses with him. He backed away for a moment but then came forward and rubbed his cheek against Shufus' muzzle.

"Beats anything I ever saw," the doctor said admiringly.

"Alright, Fussy, let's walk. If you start hurting too much, tell me and I'll carry you."

They headed back toward the administrative building. Fussy came, slowly at first but gradually increased his gait to halting walk and made it all the way on his own. He paused at the entrance to the den upon seeing the other humans.

"Friends, Fussy. Good humans."

The cat apparently agreed for he limped over to the soft deerskin rug in front of the fireplace and lay down there. Samantha knelt down to pet him and scratch behind his ears and under his chin. He began purring, a deep sound almost like a growl but with friendly overtones to it.

"Sammie strikes again," Elaine said.

An impish grin appeared on Samantha's face. "Mom, he followed me here. Can I keep him?"

"Are you kidding, Sammie? That's a wildcat!"

"No ma'am, I'm not kidding. He wants to go home with me. And remember, I was supposed to get a kitten in Lufkin and never did."

Elaine looked over at the bobcat lying peacefully on the rug. "He doesn't look much like a kitten, Sammie." She raised her brows in a wry expression.

"Shufus likes him. Don't you Shufus?"

The German Shepherd nodded his head up and down then walked over and lay down beside the cat. They nuzzled each other's muzzles for a moment then both closed their eyes. She joined them for a moment, kneeling down, and gave Shufus the same treatment she had the cat while telling him what a good dog he was. His tail thumped happily on the floor.

"Elaine, you really must have some reputable scientists study how Sammie does this. If veterinarians could perform like she does it would completely change the field, and that's not even mentioning a lot of other improvements I think she could make in animal husbandry and wildlife management."

"We know, Whit, but not yet. We'd appreciate you not publicizing what she can do either, not even among your colleagues."

"But it should all be documented, at least."

"Just keep your notes private, please. And we do have a reporter who is compiling her biography but it won't be released until Sammie is eighteen, if then."

"Why would it not be?"

"It might, but it's going to be Sammie's decision when she comes of age. Until then, the less said the better. If you had been there when those lunatics came around bothering us, you'd know. Some wanted to worship her, some believed what she did was magic and others thought she was in league with the devil. We had to move from our home in Alaska because her talent wasn't accepted and now we had to move again to get away from the nut cases in Texas. We just want her to have as normal a life as possible while allowing her to exercise her talent with animals quietly."