The Cop's Doc

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Seth did a double-take as he was driving down his street. He lived in an isolated area north of Mission City and it was rare to see people driving on his street. Rarer still to see them throw something from their vehicle. The town had strict by-laws about dumping, but occasionally people looked for isolated places to drop trash instead of heading to the dump and paying the fee. He hadn't caught a licence plate and was not going to try to turn around his truck just to go after someone littering.

Still, he would check out the trash. More than one person had been caught because they had left incriminating evidence - such as mail - in the bag. People who dumped illegally weren't always the shiniest pennies in the jar. Pulling over to the side of the road, he cut the engine and eased himself from the truck. Almost immediately, he heard it. Whimpering, he thought.

As he made his way through the thick brush, he considered calling for help but then dismissed the idea. What if someone was hurt? Not someone, he realized, when he pulled back a thicket. A dog. A little white dog.

Well what the hell was he supposed to do now? Call animal control was the quick answer, but a little yelp told Seth that this little guy, or girl, was hurting. Ignoring his own pain, he knelt down with his knuckles down, hoping the dog would just sniff and not bite.

Big brown eyes looked up at him and instead of biting, they nuzzled.

"Okay, little guy, will you let me pick you up?"

The head cocked, but the dog let Seth reach for him. When Seth picked him up, though, he let out a howl, bespeaking the agony he was in. Protectively, Seth gathered the puppy in his arms. Obviously he was making a trip back into town.

Doctor Zephyra Dixon was able to see Seth right away. She made soothing sounds as she began her exam.

"So you're saying he was thrown out of a moving vehicle?"

Seth nodded. "Yeah. I think the brush cushioned his fall, but he's still pretty beat up, eh?" He swallowed convulsively. "Is he going to be okay?"

Zephyra used her stethoscope to listen. "I'll need to do x-rays before I can give you a good answer. I'll have to call animal control."

"Why?" Seth paused. "Does he have a chip or a tattoo?"

She shook her head.

"So you probably won't be able to conclusively determine who the owner is."

"I'll ask around at the local clinics, but my guess is we won't be able to track down someone willing to take responsibility for the little guy. My guess is someone got him as a gift and decided he was too much trouble. Why they couldn't have dropped him off at the Pound, I'll never know."

Seth looked intently into eyes which were riddled with pain. "How old do you figure he is?"

"Best guess, less than a year. He's a terrier mix."

"Any objections to me taking responsibility for him? I mean, Zeph, they tossed him out the car, so it's not like they're going to come looking for him."

She considered. "Even if I forgo my fee, he's still facing substantial bills for tests, x-rays, medications-"

"Yeah, I got all that. If he doesn't need surgery and you can patch him up, how long before I can take him home?"