Chapter 63: Simba Goes to the Vet
June 21
"Errrrrr…I hate these damn drops," Owen whined as Amelia placed the last of his prescription drops in his ear.
Amelia rolled her eyes and grinned, glad that they had finally reached the last day of her big baby's meds. Over the past two weeks, she found herself thinking that she'd rather have all 5 kids sick than Owen. Thank God he didn't get sick often.
"They're weird when they bubble and crackle, aren't they?" she responded, trying her best to be supportive and understanding.
"Yes. And they're cold. It makes me want to shutter," Owen whined.
Amelia laughed; she simply couldn't contain herself any longer.
"What?" Owen asked with a slight chuckle.
Amelia took in a breath and smiled from ear to ear. She took in another breath and decided to blurt out her thoughts, "If I could tickle you right now without the chance of those drops dripping out, I would." She laughed and added, "You have got to be the whiniest, biggest baby of a patient I've ever treated."
As his head lay stationary on the pillow waiting for the drops to be absorbed, he grinned with guilt and moved his eyes as far left as possible hoping to be able to see his wife. He could just barely capture a glimpse of her as she sat on the bed behind his back. Estimating logistics as best as he could, he threw his left arm around her. He brought her down over the side of his body and began tickling her.
"It's really not fair, I can lay here and tickle you even if you can't take your chances and tickle me," he teased as she laughed. He looked at her softly as he stopped running his fingers along her side. "Thank you for putting up with me. I'll admit it – I'm a better doctor than I am a patient."
Bursting out with a surprised gasp, Amelia retorted, "You might want to find a better way to prop up your doctoring abilities. Comparing your professional skills to your behavior as a patient sets a pretty low bar, my friend."
"You're rotten!" Owen exclaimed as he left his mouth agape in mock surprise and again tickled her briefly and gently.
Amelia wiggled and giggled before leaning toward his face and kissing him, "I love you, Major Baby."
"I love you, Nurse Ratchet," he expressed as he kissed her in return and ran his hand through her hair.
Playfully, Amelia grabbed a handful of Owen's hair and warned, "You might want to be careful about that nickname. We still have the other ear to fill with drops." By this point, she had climbed over Owen and slid onto her side so she was facing him.
The couple's smiles faded as they grew serious and took in the sight of one another. Owen, his head still resting flat on its side, rubbed Amelia's shoulder and sighed, "Do you ever wish we could just escape? I adore our life, but I miss it just being us." He chuckled and continued, "I even kind of miss the trailer…or at least the times we shared there."
"It's still there on Derek's property, you know. As far as I know, it's just sitting there lonely and empty," Amelia volunteered.
"What are you saying?" Owen flirted with a suggestive tone.
Amelia smiled at Owen and shook her head. "I really wasn't attempting to hint at anything. I was just reminding you that your bachelor pad was still standing."
Chuckling, Owen suggested, "If nobody's living there, it's probably been taken over by mice by now. Hell, it was nearly being taken over by mice when I lived there."
Shuttering at the thought, Amelia cautioned, "So much for trying to talk me into a night away at the trailer."
"This bed…" Owen began as he pulled Amelia gently toward him to kiss her, "will do," he continued with another kiss, "just fine." He wrapped his arms around her and caressed her back as he slid his hand under the top of her PJs. Amelia's top leg intertwined between Owen's legs as she brought her hips toward his. The couple continued to kiss as they lost themselves in the moment.
"Hey, Mommy! Daddy!" Oliver announced as he swung open the bedroom door. Both dogs bounded in and Nala jumped on the bed wagging her tail.
Hands and legs quickly extracted themselves from their explorations. Owen flung the comforter over his mid-section and inquired, "What's up, buddy?"
"What were you guys doing?" Oliver asked with a scrunched-up face hinting at disgust. "Mommies and Daddies kiss in real life like they do on TV? Yuck."
Amelia laughed softly, thinking, Oh, honey, if you only knew… "Ollie, we love each other. Of course, we kiss and hug."
One side of Oliver's nose and mouth turned upward as he struggled to find a response. He hesitantly continued, "You don't… ummm..." As Oliver paused, both Owen and Amelia thought to themselves silently that Ollie was attempting to put together what he'd just seen with their previous discussion about how babies were conceived. The three all gazed silently at each other for a moment before they were interrupted by Nala's bark.
"Yes, Miss Nala?" Amelia inquired as she sat up. She patted the dog while gently nudging her off the bed. "What's up, Oliver? Did you come in here for something specific or just to say good morning?"
"Something pacific, but now I can't remember it," Oliver answered.
"Spe-sif-ic," Amelia encouraged.
Oliver rolled his eyes and reminded his mom, "You know I can't say that word."
"Try it," she prodded. "Spes…"
"Oh, I remember!" Oliver shouted. "I went to feed the dogs when I woke up and Simba's bleeding."
Amelia sighed, imagining dog blood all over the downstairs, the stairway, and the bedroom carpet. She looked over at Simba licking his leg obsessively and noticed spots of blood marking his path from the hallway to his location in the bedroom. She glanced at Owen and flopped on her back.
Owen jumped out of bed and approached the dog, "Hey pal…what's up?" Simba looked at Owen cautiously. "Oliver," Owen inquired, "did you see a cut or anything or did you just notice he was bleeding?"
"He kinda growled at me when I tried to pet him, so I came up here to tell you guys about it," Oliver explained. "Is he gonna be ok, Dad?"
Leaning closer to the dog, Owen spotted a cut on the side of Simba's leg. "Mia, can you go grab my med bag?" Owen requested.
Amelia laughed and responded, "No, but I can go call the vet and throw an old blanket down in the back of the car. You're not stitching him up."
"Why not? I've seen much worse in the field and in the ER," Owen reasoned.
As she approached Owen, Amelia put her arm around him and softly set her hand on Simba's hip. In reaction and out of fear, Simba snapped in Amelia's direction and then shamefully hung his head. As she pulled her hand away and grasped Owen's hands in hers, Amelia reminded Owen, "That's why. Because these 4 hands are worth more than a vet bill."
Shrugging his shoulders in resignation, Owen agreed, "Ok. Let me get dressed and I'll take him in. Can you call the vet?" Amelia nodded as she stood up.
"Can I go?" Oliver begged. "Please, can I go too?"
"Ollie, the vet will probably just ask us to wait in the waiting room while he stitches Simba up. It's going to be pretty boring," Owen explained.
"Tell him you're a surgeon and maybe he'll let you and me be with Simba," Oliver suggested.
Owen looked at his son and placed his hand on Oliver's shoulder. "I can't promise you that the vet will do that, but you can come if you want." Father and son sat vigil by their beloved dog as Simba continued to lick his wound and tentatively glance at his humans. Nala walked behind Simba and began licking her mate's leg. The two dogs nuzzled their heads together before Simba set his head down and allowed Nala to care for him.
"She's kinda being his nurse, huh?" Oliver observed.
"Or his doctor," Owen suggested.
Oliver looked up at his dad and clarified, "No, the doctor would be moving around and trying to fix everything. The nurse is gentler and tries to help the patient's feelings feel better."
Owen stared at Oliver with wonder as he considered Oliver's impressions of doctors and nurses. Placing his arm around Oliver's shoulder, Owen suggested Ollie get dressed and get ready to go to the vet. Owen walked to the linen closet and found an old army blanket. He brought it into the bedroom and threw it onto the floor. "Come here, boy," Owen patted the blanket and encouraged the dog. "C'mon over here." Simba walked over to the blanket and pawed at it, attempting to make himself a nest before settling down on just the right spot.
Amelia, now showered and dressed, walked over as she towel dried her hair. "How's he doing?"
"Seems fine. He walked over here without a problem. I can't get close enough to check it out," Owen shared with concern.
"He'll be fine," Amelia reassured her husband as she pulled her hair into a quick bun. Then she set her hand on his shoulder. "The vet said to bring him in whenever you can get there. His morning schedule is light. I need to get to the hospital to prep for a surgery. What do you want me to tell Kepner?"
"Let her know I'll be in when I can. I can't imagine this will take too long," Owen smirked as he patted Amelia's hand. "What surgery do you have? I don't remember seeing one on the board when I left last night."
Not certain she wanted to start a discussion about which surgery, Amelia simply leaned down and kissed her husband goodbye. "Let me know when you get to the hospital," she urged.
Oliver and Owen arrived at the vet and took Simba inside. The vet saw them drive up and met them at the door, "Hey, guys. We've got a bleeding retriever, huh?"
As they headed to an exam room, Oliver piped up, "Did you know my dad is a surgeon?"
Owen and the vet glanced at each other and grinned, "Yep. I did know that. He's a people doctor, right?"
"I'm just saying… he's used to seeing gross blood and stuff so Simba might like it if we stay with him while you fix his cut," Oliver attempted to persuade.
Owen shrugged as the vet looked his way and mouthed, Up to you. The vet responded, "I agree, Oliver, I think Simba would like you beside him. We can make that happen." Oliver beamed like he had just won the lottery.
As the adults settled Simba in an exam room, the receptionist helped Oliver put on some gloves, a robe, and a mask. In the room, Owen thanked the vet for meeting Oliver's not-so-subtle request, "I really appreciate your willingness to let Oliver assist today."
"You kidding me? I love it. My dad was a vet and used to let me help out. I'm not sure how much help I was at Oliver's age, but I actually made myself useful by the time I was 12 or so."
The receptionist, bearing a sweet smile, brought Oliver to the room just as Simba's valium shot was taking effect. She had used a pair of desk scissors to shorten the paper robe and its sleeves and the mask took up nearly his whole face. Even wearing the smallest sized gloves, Oliver's hands were swimming.
"Check you out, Ollie, your first surgery," Owen smiled proudly. "Can I take a picture to show Mom?" Oliver nodded his head. Even though his smile didn't show through the mask, anyone looking at the picture could tell he was smiling by spotting the twinkle in his eyes. Owen sent the picture to Amelia with the words, Oliver Hunt, DVM, assisting with Simba's stitches.
When the vet began, he asked Oliver if he wanted to help shave off Simba's fur. Simba, now sedated, showed little reaction as the vet injected something to numb the area. Then the vet held Oliver's hand as they shaved around the cut. When they finished with the razor, Oliver gently patted Simba's head and talked to him reassuringly.
The vet examined the cut and guessed that the dog had caught himself on a nail or on the edge of a chain link fence. He explained each step to Oliver along the way as the wound was irrigated and stitched. The vet even let Ollie pull the needle away from the skin after the vet placed each stitch. Oliver helped with the dressing and listened carefully to the medication instructions the vet shared with Owen.
Owen drove Ollie and Simba home and provided Lynne and the kids with an update before heading to the hospital. Without a doubt, the dog would be pampered and spoiled rotten throughout the day. Internally chuckling to himself, Owen determined that the dog was a much more attractive and enjoyable patient than he had been recently.
The vet let Oliver keep the surgical mask, so Owen showed Oliver how he could tie the strings around his neck and set the mask on his chest. Proudly, Oliver wore the mask around his neck until bedtime.