“The generator’s holding up,” he told her. “But we should conserve electricity where we can. I’ve shut down everything but essential equipment.”
Lynda sighed as she took her first sip of coffee. “Is there any word from emergency services about the road conditions?”
“Highway 93 is still closed,” Matt replied, checking his phone. “Landslides in three places. They’re saying it’ll be at least forty-eight hours before the road’s passable. The bridge to Polson is underwater, and most of the back roads are washed out.” He looked up, his expression serious. “We’re effectively cut off except for emergency vehicles.”
“Which makes us the only functioning veterinary clinic for miles,” Lynda concluded.
Matt nodded. “I’ve already had calls from three ranchers with injured livestock, and Carol says some of the shelter’s roof gave way. They’re bringing the affected animals here as soon as they can get through.”
As if on cue, the clinic’s front door chimed. Lynda walked into the hallway with Matt and looked through the glass door. Ben Davis, the ranger who’d taken them to find the pups, stood outside, soaked and muddy, and carrying a large cardboard box. Matt unlocked the door and let Ben inside.
“Got a family of raccoons,” Ben announced as he carefully set down the box. “I found them clinging to a tree branch in the flood waters. Their mother’s injured. I think she’s broken her leg. I couldn’t just leave them.”
Lynda immediately moved across to the reception desk to check the raccoons. The female raccoon was curled around three tiny kits, her front leg sitting at an unnatural angle. Despite her injury, she hissed warningly when Lynda got a little too close.
“We’ll need to sedate her to treat her leg,” Lynda said. “The kits look unharmed, but they’re too young to be separated from their mother.”
Matt joined her and looked inside the box. “We can use the isolation room for them. It’s the furthest from the puppies, which should reduce the stress for everyone.”
Ben picked up the box and followed Matt and Lynda.
While Matt cleared a space in the isolation room, Lynda prepared the sedative. Ben hovered nearby, clearly concerned for the animals he’d rescued.
“You two seem to have things under control,” he told them. “I should get back out there. There are still a lot of people and animals in trouble.”
“Thank you for bringing the raccoons into the clinic,” Lynda said.
“You’re welcome. How are the wolfdog puppies doing?”
Lynda looked at Matt.
“Better than last night,” Matt said with a smile. “They’re warm and eating the right amount of formula.”
Ben nodded. “That’s good to know. I’ll catch up with you later today.”
After Ben left, Lynda and Matt divided up the work they’d have to do next. She would handle the raccoon family while Matt checked on the wolfdog puppies and prepared for the shelter animals Carol was bringing to the clinic. They’d coordinate the feedings for the orphaned puppies between their other cases and hope there weren’t too many callouts.
Forty-five minutes later, Matt returned to the isolation room. “Star’s breathing normally now,” he told Lynda. “She’s still weaker than the others but improving.”
Lynda felt a surge of satisfaction. “That’s wonderful. I’ve splinted the raccoon’s leg and checked her babies. All she needs now is a lot of rest.”
By lunchtime, the clinic had transformed into a buzzing emergency center. Carol had arrived with three dogs and four cats from the damaged shelter, each needing assessmentand treatment for mild hypothermia or stress. A local farmer brought in a lamb with a deep laceration, probably caused by debris in the floodwaters.
Just when they thought the worst was over, two rangers arrived with a barn owl that had been blown from its nest.
Matt checked his watch. “It’s time to feed the pups. Do you want to take Star and the two males, Lynda?”
She smiled as she prepared the formula. “I’m happy to feed any of them, but Star’s my favorite.” When she was ready, she carefully picked up the smallest pup. Star’s condition had improved dramatically since their night-time crisis. Now she sucked eagerly at the bottle, her tiny paws pushing against Lynda’s hand.
“You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?” she murmured affectionately. “Just like someone else I know.”
Matt glanced up from his feeding duties. “I hope that’s a compliment.”
“Definitely,” Lynda replied, their eyes meeting briefly over the puppies in their arms.
The clinic door chimed again, but this time, Brenda was there to help whoever had arrived.
A few minutes later, Kathleen bustled in carrying two large bags that filled the treatment room with the mouth-watering aroma of pancakes.
