"The kids might have dropped some food," Mrs. Baxter said, glancing at her children with mild reproach. "We had a picnic lunch in the park."
"What kind of food?" Lacey continued her examination of Chompers.
"Sandwiches, some grapes, chocolate chip cookies..." Mrs. Baxter's eyes widened as she realized the implication. "Oh no. Do you think he ate chocolate?"
"Maybe," Lacey said, feeling the dog's elevated heart rate. "Chocolate toxicity in dogs can cause exactly these symptoms. The good news is we caught it early."
She turned to Margo, who was standing ready with supplies. "Can you draw up an activated charcoal solution? And prepare an anti-nausea injection."
Margo nodded and moved to the medication cabinet, working efficiently, the summer jobs working for Lacey when she was a teen paying off. Lacey worked with her injured shoulder still in its sling. They'd become a good team over the past hour, compensating for each other's limitations, with Margo’s burn.
"Is Chompers going to be okay?" the younger child asked, a boy of about seven who was clearly attached to the dog.
"He's going to be fine," Lacey assured him with a warm smile. "We're going to give him some medicine to help his stomach feel better, and then you'll need to watch him carefully for the next day or two."
She administered the anti-nausea injection first, then gave Chompers the activated charcoal to help absorb any remainingchocolate in his system. The dog was cooperative, clearly feeling unwell enough to accept the treatment without protest.
"There," Lacey said, stroking the poodle's curly head as he began to relax slightly. "That should help."
She spent the next few minutes going over post-treatment instructions with Mrs. Baxter, explaining what symptoms to watch for and when to call if Chompers showed any signs of distress. The family was clearly devoted to their pet, and Lacey felt confident they would follow her instructions carefully.
"Bring him back tomorrow morning so I can check on him," she concluded, helping Mrs. Baxter get Chompers down from the examination table. "And no more chocolate for this fellow. Keep all human food up high where he can't reach it."
"We will," Mrs.Baxter promised. "Thank you so much, Dr. Peltz. I was so scared when he started acting sick."
"That's what we're here for," Lacey replied, walking them to the front door. "Chompers is going to be just fine."
She and Margo watched as the family loaded the now much calmer poodle into their car and drove away. The evening was growing dark, and Lacey suddenly realized how late they were running.
Margo glanced at her wristwatch and frowned. "We'd better go. We're running really late for the barbecue, and I have the dessert in the car."
"Yes, we wouldn't want to have to eat your peach cobbler all by ourselves," Lacey laughed, feeling her stomach respond to the thought of Margo's famous dessert. She could almost taste the sweet peaches and buttery crust topped with a huge dollopof vanilla whipped cream. The thought made her mouth water, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since breakfast.
"Let's get washed up and go," Lacey suggested, heading toward the small bathroom to clean up after handling Chompers.
"I'll lock up," Margo said, moving toward the front door.
Before she could reach it, and just as Lacey was turning toward the bathroom, they both froze as the front door of the veterinary clinic opened slightly. A metallic canister rolled across the floor, coming to rest near the reception desk.
They stared in shock, which quickly turned to horror as a hissing sound filled the air and gray gas began pouring from the device.
Instinct kicked in immediately. "Hold your breath!" Lacey shouted. "Get to the door!"
She followed her own advice, taking a deep breath and holding it as she and Margo both rushed toward the front entrance. But when Margo grabbed the handle and pushed, the door wouldn't budge. It had been secured from the outside somehow.
Still holding her breath and starting to feel her lungs burn with the effort, Lacey pointed toward the back of the clinic. Margo nodded, understanding immediately, and they both ran toward the rear exit.
But as they rounded the corner into the back hallway, they came to an abrupt halt. Flames were rising up from the back door, blocking their escape route completely. Someone had set a fire there while they were dealing with the gas in the front.
"Oh no," Lacey gasped, using up precious air. Her hand flew to her mouth as she realized they were trapped.
As the burn in her lungs intensified, she pointed toward the small bathroom. It had a window. Maybe they could get out that way. Margo nodded, her face already showing the strain of holding her breath for so long.
They rushed to the bathroom, but as they pushed open the door, another metallic canister flew through the slightly open window, landing at their feet and immediately hissing out the same gray gas.
Lacey's mind raced as panic threatened to overwhelm her. They were trapped. Someone had planned this carefully. They had blocked the front door, setting fire to the back exit, and now gassing the only other room where they might have found refuge.
Her lungs were screaming for air now, and she could see that Margo was in the same situation. They had to find another way out, but the clinic was small, and there weren't many options.
