Well, that didn’t exactly put a comforting image in my mind, but I supposed that as long as she got the nourishment she needed, that was the important thing. “And will she be able to nurse again once she’s back home?”
“In all likelihood, yes,” he said. “There’s no medical reason why she couldn’t, but occasionally, a puppy might develop a preference for a bottle, or her mother might reject her once she’s been separated.”
“Oh.” I glanced over at Violet, who was currently grooming Sunny. She was a great mama, but she had briefly rejected Cherry when she was born not breathing.
“She’ll probably resume nursing like a champ,” he said. “And if not, you’ll only have to bottle feed her for a few weeks before she’s old enough to wean.”
“Assuming she’s okay,” I said, voicing my lingering fear.
“That’s right,” he agreed, sounding more somber now. “If the tumor is malignant, I’ll be honest with you, her prognosis is not good. However, there’s every reason to believe it was benign, in which case, I’m hopeful she’ll make a full recovery.”
* * *
As it turned out, Cherry spent two days in the hospital. While she was away, I spent most of my free time working on financial consultations for local businesses. I hadn’t been sure if anyone would respond to my Facebook postings, but my grandma had been a popular lady around here, and now it seemed like everyone who had known her wanted me to come in and give them financial advice.
I set up my laptop at the kitchen table, where I could work without the constant squealing and squawking of puppies. They were three weeks old now and starting to wobble around the playpen on their own, which was absolutely adorable. Violet didn’t stay with them all the time anymore. Sometimes, she’d come down the hall and lie on the dog bed in the living room near me for a little break. I trusted her judgment on that, and so far, everything seemed to be fine.
I spent the afternoon finishing up some numbers for Mrs. Ashton’s yarn shop, and then it was time to pick up Cherry from the vet. The hospital was about forty minutes away, and I spent the whole drive worrying over her prognosis and the care she would require once she was home, envisioning tiny stitches and bandages. I wasn’t very good with wounds. I never had been. Just the thought made me shudder.
When I arrived, a vet tech took me back to an empty exam room, and a few minutes later, Dr. Moore entered.
“Hi there,” he said. “You’ll be relieved to know that Cherry’s biopsy came up negative.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling a welcome rush of relief. “That’s great news.”
He nodded. “Her bloodwork so far indicates that her liver is functioning normally, so we’re cautiously optimistic that there won’t be any issues. We’ll need to see her again in a few days for a recheck.”
He spent the next ten minutes or so going over all her care with me, and by the time he went to get Cherry, my head was spinning. He carried her in the same box I’d brought her here in two days ago, except she was lying on her side now, revealing a row of silver staples along her belly that made me vaguely nauseous.
Consequently, I was already reaching for my phone as I walked to the parking lot with her. “Can you stay with me tonight?” I asked when Taylor connected the call. “I’m so worried about caring for Cherry and keeping her incision safe, and…I don’t have any experience with anything like this.”
“Yeah, let me just find someone to watch Minnie for me, but I should be able to do that, no problem,” she said.
“What about Blue?”
“He was adopted this morning.” I could hear the smile in Taylor’s voice.
“Aw, good for him.”
“Yep,” Taylor said. “He went home with a woman who lives alone and was looking for a loyal companion. I think they’ll be a perfect match.”
“That does sound perfect for him,” I agreed, still boggled by how she could care for a dog and then give it up. I was already attached to Violet and her puppies, torn between wondering how I was going to say goodbye and wishing they were already gone so I could finish up with the cabin and get back to Boston…unless I found a way to stay here with Taylor.
“So how is Cherry?” she asked.
“Well, her biopsy came up negative, which is the good news. As long as her liver keeps working and nothing else goes wrong, she should be okay.” I tucked her box into the passenger seat and wrapped the seat belt around it to keep it in place. Cherry stared up at me out of squinty, baby-blue eyes. “I’m just worried about her recovery right now.”
“I’ll come over in an hour or so, all right? Don’t panic in the meantime. She’ll be fine. The littlest ones tend to be the quickest to heal, you know?”
“If you say so. And thank you.”
I ended the call and drove home carefully, sneaking glances at Cherry the whole time. She fell asleep a few minutes into the drive and slept the rest of the way home. When I got there, I carried her inside, and, as Dr. Moore had suggested, I held the box out to let Violet sniff her when she greeted me at the front door. Violet gave her several enthusiastic licks—which seemed like a good sign—before sniffing at her belly.
“I have to put this silly little sock shirt on her before I can give her back to you,” I told Violet. One of the vet techs had cut head and leg holes through a couple of old socks for Cherry to wear to protect her incision from her siblings’ paws and Violet’s grooming attempts. Even so, I was going to have to keep a close eye on her…and she might not be able to go back in with her littermates at all. It was going to be a process of trial and error to see how they all reacted.
Violet followed on my heels as I walked to the bedroom. I set Cherry’s box on the bed and opened the bag of supplies the hospital had sent home with me, pulling out one of the sock shirts. She whimpered as I lifted her from the box. Trying my hardest not to look at her incision, I worked her wiggly legs through the openings on the sock and slid it down her body. It was harder than I’d expected due to her constant squirming. Her legs never seemed to be where I needed them.
But finally, I had it. The sock actually had little cherries on it, and oh myGod, it was possibly the cutest thing I’d ever seen. I set her on the bedspread and took some pictures with my phone that Taylor could post on the shelter’s blog for their fundraiser. Cherry watched me for a minute in confusion, then scrunched up her eyes and howled for her mama.
