Thank you! Thank you for reading!
As a kid, I always loved Mutt and Junkyard. They don't get to appear in a lot of fanfic stories so I thought I'd dedicate a chapter all to them. Hope you enjoy.
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The phone rang, interrupting the unusually quiet and slow afternoon. About time, I laughed to myself. I was actually starting to get bored.
"Doc, here," he picked up the phone.
"Uh huh. Yes, Mutt….He is?" Doc's brow furrowed in concern.
I listened to this side of the conversation wondering what they were talking about. And who was Mutt? I mentally ticked off the list of Joes I had already met. Mutt was not among them.
"OK. I understand," Doc spoke again. "Bring him right over," he hung up the phone.
"Who was that?," I asked.
"Mutt."
"Mutt?," I repeated.
"The Joe team's K-9 handler."
"Oh? What's up?"
"He's bringing Junkyard over. He hurt his foot."
Junkyard? I thought quickly. I didn't remember meeting a Joe by that name, either. "Should I get a wheelchair ready?," I asked Doc.
"No," he looked at me strangely, "Mutt will carry him."
"Carry him?"
"Um, yes," his lips twitched.
I had realised very quickly that Doc was never one to give information casually. I guess you could say it goes with the territory. Doctors move in a world of patient trust and confidentiality. I can understand this because I'm a doctor as well. This kind of discretion tends to spill over into ordinary life and conversation. It sometimes makes it difficult to talk about things in an ordinary way. Thankfully, whatever I don't get through conversation, I eventually get through experience. I guess that's really what Doc means when he tells me, "You'll learn." Sometimes, I just wish it didn't have to be the hard way.
Before long, a man wearing a green shirt and matching green cargo pants arrived. In his arms, he held a fully grown Rottweiler. Now, I was really confused.
"That's Mutt?," I asked, pointing to the dog.
"No, that's Junkyard," Doc said quickly.
Mutt turned on me like a protective mother bear, bearing his teeth, "Junk ain't no mutt."
Did that man just growl? My eyes widened and I took a step back. "No, of course not," I stammered and then added quickly, "He's a very fine looking Rottweiler."
Mutt continued to glare at me. His thick black beard and bushy eyebrows gave him an almost wild appearance. I felt pinned by his fierce stare, unable to speak or move. I finally gave Doc a pleading look.
"Mutt, bring him over here," Doc motioned, a slight smile on his face.
Junkyard whined softly.
"Easy now, boy," Mutt spoke gently as he placed him on the exam table.
Junkyard followed Doc's every movement with liquid brown eyes, bright and eager. Doc smiled at him affectionately. He reached one hand around to scratch behind Junkyard's soft ear working his way down to scratch under his chin. Junkyard yipped softly as he wriggled and tried to lick Doc's hand.
"I know boy," Doc chuckled, "I've missed you, too." He alternately rubbed and patted his warm, furry back. Junkyard excitedly licked at his ear, nearly upsetting Doc's glasses. "Enough, Enough," Doc laughed, setting them firmly back in place. Then he turned to Mutt.
"So, which foot was it?" he asked, wiping the side of his face with a grin.
"That one," Mutt pointed worriedly to a front paw. "See the blood?"
"Yes…," Doc muttered, suddenly full of concern. His grin slipped. "Sorry boy," he turned to Junkyard, "I'll try not to hurt you…" He took the injured paw carefully and gently spread out his toes. A small ribbon of blood pooled and dripped onto the table. Junkyard whined and tried to pull his paw out of Doc's hand.
"Easy, boy…" Doc murmured softly, patting him gently.
"How is it?" Mutt asked anxiously.
Doc squinted his eyes, examining the wound carefully. "Well, it looks like he's going to need a stitch or two. "Sorry big fella," he again spoke soothingly to the large Rottweiler.
"Don't worry, you'll be just fine, boy," Mutt consoled him softly, his eyes tight with worry.
I made sure everything was ready for the procedure. The curved needle and pliers, scissors and clamps were all laid out on the sterilised tray. Meanwhile, Doc carefully washed his hands and pulled on his surgical gloves. Speaking softly and moving slowly he gently tended Junkyard's wound. I quietly observed from over his shoulder. Junkyard really surprised me. He sat still throughout the whole procedure, only flinching when Doc inserted the needle into his paw, injecting the lidocaine to numb the area.
After he had knotted and trimmed the last stitch, Doc wrapped the paw in a white bandage to protect it from getting dirty and infected. He handed Mutt some liquid antibiotics to mix in his food. "Twice a day for four days."
"Thanks Doc," Mutt smiled, relieved that it was all over. "Come on boy," he picked him up gently, "Let's go home."
"Wait, don't forget his Milk Bones…," Doc cried suddenly, handing the paper bag to Mutt. "I like to reward my patients for being good," he explained sheepishly.
"He was a good boy, wasn't he?" Mutt grinned, awkwardly trying to balance Doc's bag under his chin as he pressed it against Junkyard. "Thanks again, Doc. Later."
Junkyard turned his head toward Doc and gave one last sharp bark and wag of his stump tail.
"You're welcome," Doc's smiling eyes following them as they left.
I waited until they were out of ear shot before commenting jokingly, "I didn't realise being a Veterinarian was part of my job description."
Doc raised his eyebrows at me. "That dog behaves better than some of the human patients I have treated."
My face paled slightly, remembering some of my recent patients. He was certainly right about that. "So," I continued lightly, "What other animals do we treat here?" I honestly thought he'd just mention another dog or two and maybe a cat.
"Well," Doc's face softened and he smiled fondly, "There's only four. That's why the Joes don't have a resident Veterinarian," he explained. "In addition to Junkyard, we have Polly. He's a bad-mouthed parrot that belongs to Shipwreck."
"A what…?
"And then there's Timber. He's a wolf that belongs to Snake Eyes…"
"Wolf?" My voice came out in a strangled choke, "and … Snake Eyes?" Who was that?
"And Freedom, our Bald Eagle," he continued, "He belongs to Spirit."
"Bald Eagle?" My mouth dropped completely open. "Spirit? …You're joking, right?" A parrot, a wolf and a Bald Eagle? It sounded more like a zoo than a military base.
He eyed me severely, "Those four happen to be some of my favourite patients. And when they are sick or injured, it's our job to take care of them."
"But…" I stammered, tripping over my tongue, "They're animals….and we're doctors."
Doc's face hardened. "Those four pull more than their share of weight around here. They are as much of a Joe as you or I or anyone else on this team."
"But…," I began to protest and then seeing the stern look on Doc's face, gave up. A sigh escaped my lips.
Welcome to the Joe Zoo.
Doc must have read my face because he suddenly smiled. "Follow me," he motioned.
He led me to a cupboard in the back of the medicine closet. "What I am about to show you stays here and goes no further," he warned sternly.
I nodded, slightly nervous. Just what was he going to show me?
"My reward cabinet," he grinned.
His what?
As he opened the door, my mouth dropped open in disbelief. I saw boxes of Milk Bones, unsalted saltine crackers, bags of sunflower seeds and beef jerky. In the far right corner, almost buried under the other treats, was a very small container of Tootsie pops.
"Like I said before," he eyed me with a humorous glint in his eye, "I like to reward my patients for being good.…and some are better than others."
I laughed out loud, dragging a hand through my short hair. "Alright Doc," I nodded in amusement. "Fine, you win. So where can I get a medical book on how to treat Bald Eagles?" I raised my eyebrows.
He smiled smugly and reached into the back of the closet, pulling out a thick, heavy book. Slapping it against my chest, he laughed, "Right here."
I looked down at the title, Caring for the Eagle: Modern Treatments and Medical Procedures.
"Okay…," I smiled. I could feel Doc watching me closely. What I didn't tell him was that I had already added "For Dummies" to the end of the title.
I finally looked up at him with a huge grin plastered to my face.
I guess now I'm a Joe Veterinarian.