and dirty, matted little puppy. She crouched down to see it was trembling. And it was easy to see there was something wrong with its leg.
“Oh, you poor baby. Are you okay?”
The little thing wasn’t even trying to get away from her, but looked up at her with sad, soulful brown eyes that made her tear up.
“You’re hurt, baby. Let me help you.”
She scooped the puppy—she looked and it was a her—up and cradled her close. “Don’t you worry, little girl. Erin is going to take care of you.”
So much for her massage appointment. But this little pup needed help, and that took priority. She got back in the car, grabbed a blanket from the back seat and laid the pup on the blanket on her lap. She settled right in, no longer shaking.
Okay. She had to take the pup to Jason.
He’d know what to do.
“I KNOW BUSTER loves sausages, Mrs. Klein. But the fact is, your dachshund is fat.”
His client, a very lovely woman in her seventies, offered him a concerned look. “He eats meals with me. Since Al died, he’s been my only companion. With the children spread out in different states, I just wanted to feel like I had someone to share my life, you know?”
“I understand. And you can still do that. We’ll write out a plan for how much of his dog food you can split into three meals a day. But only give him dog food. Table scraps are bad for his pancreas, some foods are toxic to animals, and overfeeding him will ultimately shorten his life.”
Mrs. Klein winced. “I thought I was giving him love, and instead I’m hurting him.”
He saw the tears well in her eyes and wished he hadn’t been the one to put them there, but here at his clinic he had to be Dr. Jason Callum, veterinarian, and that meant his primary concern was for the animals in his care.
“Do you take walks?”
She nodded. “Around the neighborhood. It’s so lovely this time of year. My friends and I like to see all the flowers.”
“Take Buster with you. He can use the exercise and it’ll help get his weight off faster.”
Her face brightened as she smiled. “Oh, he’ll enjoy that. I’ll be sure to do that every day.”
As he walked out of the exam room with Mrs. Klein and Buster, he put an arm around her. “I know you love him. You and Buster can do this.”
She looked down at her waddling dog. “Of course we can, can’t we, Buster?”
He looked over at Casey, his tech. “Set Mrs. Klein up on the low-cal dog food and a three-time-a-day feeding schedule for his weight, including when and how to offer some allowable treats.”
She nodded and walked away with Mrs. Klein.
Jason went back into the hallway and stopped to review some lab reports that had just come in. He was particularly interested in one for a ten-year-old mastiff he’d seen a couple of days ago who presented with a sizable lump on his belly. They’d removed the lump and taken a biopsy. From the looks of the sample it hadn’t appeared to be just fibrous or fatty tissue, so they’d sent it off to the lab.
He was relieved to read the report and discover the cells weren’t cancerous. Jose and Teresa would be relieved to know their dog was going to be okay.
Joe, one of his techs, came over to the desk. “We have an emergency in room five, Dr. Callum. And the woman specifically asked to see you.”
He worked with two other vets, so typically whoever wasn’t busy with a patient or in surgery would take any incoming emergencies. But if someone asked for a certain veterinarian they also tried to accommodate the request.
“Be right there.” He left the rest of the reports in his inbox and washed his hands, then made his way to the exam room, surprised to find Erin in there holding on to a mess of a puppy that couldn’t be more than six months old.
“Hey, Erin.”
She stood. “I was driving down our main road and this little girl dashed away from my car. I stopped to check on her. I think something’s wrong with her leg.”
“Okay. Let’s take a look.” His tech Joe had come in with him, so Joe set up a towel on the exam table and took the pup from Erin’s arms to place her on the table.