I sigh and text the daycare to let them know I’m going to be a little late picking Harper up. They don’t care. They’re there until six, but I’m usually there by five thirty, and I don’t want them tothink I’m not going to show. I don’t want them to say something in front of Harper and make her think I’ve forgotten her.
I finish wiping down the cage that held a dog before the kitten rescue and put away the cleaning supplies. I’m hoping Shaleigh has good news to share, like a promotion for me, but judging by her serious expression, I’m betting on bad news.
Shaleigh’s behind her desk, a calendar of cats on the wall. October’s is a tiny kitten climbing out of a pumpkin. She takes off her glasses and shakes her head. She’s shaved her thick curls into a buzz cut that looks amazing on her. She has one of those heads that are perfectly shaped and a fine-boned face that’s made for a short cut. Her face looked just as good with the long braids she wore last month and the natural do she had the month before.
She’s one of those women who seem to be effortlessly stylish and feminine. While I’m most comfortable in sweatpants and no make-up.
I start toward the chair in front of her desk, but she holds up a hand. “Not sure if you’ve noticed, but you’re filthy, and these chairs are impossible to get clean once you’ve rubbed dirt in them. Ask me how I know.”
I glance down at myself. Before I walked in here, I tried slapping off the worst of the mess, but it made no difference. I still look like I rolled around in the dirt.
“I had to crawl under a porch to rescue a kitten.”
“Procedure is to leave a live trap,” Shaleigh says. “Why didn’t you follow procedure?”
“The homeowner said her husband would shoot the kitten if I didn’t remove it from the premises before he returned home.”
Shaleigh doesn’t seem at all surprised by my story. Which either means she’s come to expect it from me or she’s gotten a call about the incident already. My stomach sinks. I have a bad feeling I know where this conversation is going.
“So you risked yourself instead,” she says, shaking her head. “We have procedures for a reason. If you were injured because they were wrong about the animal, our insurance wouldn’t cover you.”
She’s right. I hate it, but she is. “I was careful. I’m always careful.” I have a child who needs me. I have to be careful.
“According to ‘the homeowner,’” she says, making air quotes with her fingers. “You were also rude. You told a mother how to parent her child and made a little boy cry.”
I roll my eyes. Ever since our local city government started texting survey forms to every person who interacts with a government employee, the number of complaints I’ve gotten has gone way up. We’ve made it too easy for people to criticize every little thing. “The kid was blocking the crawl space I needed to get into, and the mother refused to do anything about it.”
Her lips quake, but she manages not to smile. “Which I agree is annoying, Amelia. Why don’t you tell me what I’m going to say next since you’ve heard it so often?”
“This was beyond the pale. They were endangering the kitten and, if I’d done everything that little boy wanted, he could have gotten hurt.”
Shaleigh crosses her arms over her chest and stares me down.
My shoulders slump. I hate that she’s right so much. “But it doesn’t matter what the people do, because I am a representative of our local government, and I set the tone for how the community interacts with our government. But it’s also my job to protect the animals, and sometimes I have to be a little rude to do that.”
Shaleigh drops her arms. “I get it, Amelia. You know I do. I’ve always appreciated your honesty and your devotion to the animals above all else, but if you want to be considered for the scholarship program, you need to learn to be gentler with stupid humans. Even veterinarians have to deal with stupid humans.”
I stare at her confused. “Are you having a stroke? Don’t you mean promotion?”
She smiles finally, and I relax. I haven’t totally ruined my chances of getting the promotion that comes with a title and a higher salary. “That right there is an example of what not to say when interacting with the public. And I did not have a stroke. Every person with a pet, which includes every member of the town council, is sick of having to drive so far for a vet visit. With the help of several local donors, they’ve created a scholarship fund to allow a local to get their degree in veterinary medicine.”
I sway on my feet, feeling suddenly lightheaded. “A full scholarship? That’s over two hundred grand, Shaleigh.”
“We need a local vet. We need more than one, but one would be a great start. And we need someone who is committed to Catalpa Creek, someone who won’t leave to go to a big city where they can get a bigger salary.”
I really need to sit, but I don’t dare dirty Shaleigh’s chair. “I’ve always wanted to be a veterinarian.”
Her smile widens. “I think you’ve mentioned it once or twice. Where are you with that bachelor’s degree?”
And reality sinks in. I’ve been working on my bachelor’s degree, taking classes at the local university whenever I can fit them in, for the past three years. It hasn’t been easy working full time, raising Harper, and taking classes, but Shaleigh has allowed me flexibility with my schedule, and my family and friends have helped. “I’ve got ten more credits to finish before I get my degree.”
Shaleigh nods. “Okay. That’s a hurdle, but it’s not insurmountable.”
“But Maple Ridge University doesn’t have a veterinary program. I’d have to go to Tech. I can’t afford to move and—”
Shaleigh holds up a hand. “Just hear me out...”
“Tech’s an hour and a half drive each way. How could I work full time and make that kind of commute? I’d never have a moment to spend with Harper.”
