Scene Seventeen
Dr. Harry Jarmin opened the front door of his clinic and let them in at 4:58 PM. "You must be Heather and Gil. Miss Lily phoned said that some of her guests had an emergency. I'm glad she called when she did. I was just about to leave for the day."
Gil shook his hand. "We really appreciate you staying for us."
The doctor squatted and rubbed Hank's head while looking him over. "Hello Big Fella." He glanced up at Gil. "What seems to be the trouble? He looks fine at first glance. He seems alert and at ease."
"It's not Hank we're concerned about." Heather said, holding out the blanket she had been cradling for the vet to take. "Hank found her abandoned at a street fair."
Once he held the blanket he understood. He peeled the blanket away enough to see the face of the tiny pup inside. "Well hi there darlin'; are you having a tough day? Well it's going to get better."
As much to Heather and Gil as to the dogs he said, "Let's go in the back and have a look." He led them through the waiting area to an exam room and set the bundle in his arms down on a stainless steel table. As the blanket fell away, and she tried to shake herself free he exclaimed, "Goodness, before I can examine her, she's got to have a bath. She looks like somebody dropped her in an oil pan, and then rolled her in dirt." He carried her to the sink, and placed her on the counter top while he turned on the water and adjusted the temperature. "Don't you go anywhere darlin'. You stay put." To ensure that she did as asked he took the lid off a jar of dog treats and gave her several. She sniffed at them tentatively and then inhaled all of them.
"She's hungry." Heather commented with a note of sadness in her voice; stepping nearer to the little dog.
The vet smiled at Heather's reaction. "Yes she is. From the look of her, I'd say that she hasn't eaten for a while, but given that fact; her being hungry is a good sign. It means, most likely, that she isn't sick. Have you ever seen a dog that didn't want to eat?"
"Yes I have; once. He was very sick. He died."
Again the veterinarian offered her a warm gentle smile, "Well this little one still wants to eat, and that's good. Do you want to help bathe her?"
In reply Heather pushed up the sleeves of her blouse and stepped closer to the sink. He offered her an apron to protect her clothes from the dirt and water. She accepted, put it on, and gave Jarmin an inquiring look when he removed baby shampoo from a cabinet.
"It's mild enough that it won't sting her cuts and scratches." He offered in explanation.
Heather nodded quietly, and the two set to work. Only a moment after they had begun, Hank came over to stand beside Heather and watch. Gil found a stool with wheels and pushed it over and sat beside Hank; partly to watch too, and partly to make certain Hank didn't get in their way. The tiny dog seemed a bit nervous, but accepted what was happening without complaint. She had burrs stuck in her matted fur and it made bathing her difficult, so the vet handed Heather a pair of scissors, and she set to work cutting them out while he scrubbed. They worked quietly, except for when one of them spoke to comfort the dog in the sink or the one at Heather's side. Hank watched their every move attentively.
At one point, Heather offered him a treat from the jar. "We aren't hurting her Pal. I promise." Hank refused the treat so Heather gave it to the smaller dog.
The bath took nearly an hour, but near the end Heather spoke to get the vet's attention. "Dr. Jarmin, I think she's got one of those awful burrs stuck between the pads on her paw. That's why she holds it up. It hurts her to bear weight on it."
"Yes I noticed it a while ago, but decided to take care of it last. It's wedged in tight, and I was hoping the water might loosen it a bit. She's going to fight us when we try to take it out. And… call me Harry." He wrapped a fluffy towel around the dog and rubbed her gently to absorb some of the water from her coat. Then he tossed the towel in a hamper, and wrapped her in a fresh dry towel before he handed her to Heather.
"If you hold her, I'll see if I can work it loose enough to cut it out." They both tried to sooth her distress as he worked with gentle hands to extract the burr enough to cut it free. The little dog whined and yapped pitifully, and squirmed to be free off Heather's arm.
Hank whined loudly and Gil held on to his collar and talked to him. "It's okay Buddy. They're trying to help her."
When the doctor finally was able to snip the burr loose, the little dog calmed immediately in Heather's arms, and Hank quieted as well. Jarmin held her paw up and looked at it closely. "It's a bit pink, but you found her before it got seriously infected. I'm going to put some antibiotic cream on it and wrap it. If she tries to chew the bandage off we'll give her a collar to prevent that." He medicated and bandaged the paw while she was still in Heather's arms. The dog whimpered again and Hank barked in protest, but the vet didn't seem to mind either complaint. "Okay now let me see her. I want to get a good look at the rest of her cuts and scratches."
Heather took the towel off of her. "Wait just a moment Harry." She knelt in front of Hank and held the pup out for him to sniff. "See Hank, she's okay. We won't hurt her."
The little dog licked the end of Hank's nose and the people in the room laughed when the big dog made a noise that sounded very much like a sigh of contentment.
Heather looked at Gil and smiled. "Your dog is whipped."
Gil grinned; patting Hank's head. "I know the feeling well."
Harry spoke up and declared, "It looks like you better pick a name for her. I don't think Hank is going to let her go. Now bring her to the table, I'll examine her thoroughly, give her a few shots, and some standard meds."
As she walked over to the table, Heather said, "She can come live with me. Gil doesn't need another dog in his house. Allison will love her, and Hank can visit all he likes. What breed is she; can you tell?"
"She's got the build and characteristics of a West Highland Terrier, but pure bred Westies are white. She's smaller too. I'd say that she's a mixed breed; most likely, part Westie and part Scottie, and I doubt that she's six months old yet."
Heather smiled, "Scottish Terrier; that was my guess. My grandmother had one for a while, but that little dog got out and got lost."
"Well if you're serious about keeping her; I can put one of those 'Home Again' microchips in her hip. It's just a quick injection. It won't hurt her, and if she ever gets lost, most vets and shelters scan for them now. The chip holds your contact information, but I still recommend collars with visible ID too."
Grissom spoke up. "Hank has one himself Heather; just in case."
Heather placed the dog on the table, and smiled, "Yes please; I'd like that.
The vet did his exam and before he administered vaccinations he turned to Hank, who stood, fore paws upon the table, watching everything. "If she cries when I do this; don't eat me okay?"
Hank made a grumbling sound, and the little girl licked his nose again.
The vet finished his work, and then gave Heather six month supplies of heart worm preventative, and flea treatments. He said good-bye to Heather and Gil, patted both dogs and sent them on their way. Before they left Heather threw Hank's, now filthy, blanket in a trash can.
"We need to find a pet store anyway." She said. "She needs things. I'll replace Hank's blanket too."
"She needs things?" Gil questioned as they got in the car with Hank in the back seat, and the puppy in Heather's lap.
"Yes; she needs lots of things. And make it one of those pet stores that let the dog come inside too like 'PetsMart'. I'll call Miss Lily again and ask her where one is."
Gil smiled and rolled his eyes as he started the car. "Yes Ma'am"