Kennels, where Shannon’s holding on to a guinea pig for Izzy to cut its nails. The guinea pig, one of the long-haired variety, is not happy, squeaking in protest.
‘I reckon he’s afraid he’s going to end up in the microwave,’ Drew says, moving closer. ‘Did you know they eat guinea pigs in Peru?’
‘No?’ Shannon says, looking up, wide-eyed with horror.
‘It’s true,’ says Izzy, confirming Drew’s observation.
‘Have you eaten one, then?’ Shannon says, her voice trembling. ‘Oh, don’t tell me …’
‘I have not,’ says Izzy. ‘What about you, Drew? Have you eaten guinea pig on your travels?’
‘I did travel up through Peru and Bolivia,’ Drew says, neither confirming nor denying the accusation.
‘I shouldn’t worry,’ Emma says. ‘We aren’t going to eat any of our patients here.’ She grins and I can feel everyone relax. The guinea pig stops squeaking. ‘It wouldn’t be good for business.’
‘Would you mind having a look at the Westie while you’re here?’ Izzy asks. ‘I need to know if you’re going to open her up today or whether I can feed her.’
‘How is she?’ Emma asks, sounding a little guilty, I think, because she hadn’t sorted the inpatients out before collecting Drew from the station.
‘I’ll get her out,’ I offer.
‘Allow me,’ says Drew.
‘What about your suit – I mean, your boss’s suit?’ I point out.
Drew glances down at his attire. ‘He won’t mind,’ he says.
‘You can have a pinny,’ Izzy calls. ‘They’re in the dispenser beside the sink.’
I fetch him one. He puts the plastic apron on over his head, but he can’t tie it round his waist because the ties don’t reach – not that he’s fat. Far from it. Drew heads for the cage, where the Westie takes one look at him and turns her back. Joining him, I unfasten the catch.
‘Come here, Delilah,’ I call softly, at which she looks round.
‘She seems a bit shy,’ Drew observes. ‘What’s she in for?’
‘Persistent vomiting,’ Emma interjects.
‘She hasn’t been sick overnight,’ Izzy says from the prep bench as Drew lifts her out and cuddles her to his chest. At first Delilah stares at him, her ears down and tail still.
‘You’re a cute little thing,’ Drew says, and I wonder if he says that to all the girls, then think he probably doesn’t have to. Delilah seems hooked anyway. She wriggles up towards his face, resting her paws on his shoulder before, tail wagging, she licks at his nose. ‘Where do you want her?’ He takes her towards the prep bench and Delilah stops her licking. I see her eyes fix on the guinea pig.
‘Shannon, put the guinea pig away, please,’ I say quickly, sensing trouble. The guinea pig might be safe from the staff, but it’s in imminent danger of being eaten by one of our other patients, and I don’t want to have to explain that one.
Shannon whisks it away, then returns to spray the bench and remove the nail clippings while Drew hangs on to an overexcited Delilah so Emma can check her over. She explains the detail of the case to Drew and I feel a little embarrassed on her behalf because she makes it all sound terribly technical as if she’s out to impress. She doesn’t have to – it’s Drew who’s supposed to be impressing us, and I’m not sure that he’s making enough effort. He seems to like the animals and some of them like him, but he seems rather vague when Emma’s talking about laboratory parameters to measure pancreatitis and liver function.
Still, he must know his stuff, mustn’t he? It’s a slight niggle, the tiniest doubt, which remains in my mind for some time after Drew’s gone, and one that I raise with Emma when we’re upstairs in the flat, raising glasses of fizzy water later the same evening. (We don’t have wine – I’m on call and Emma’s thinking of the baby.)
How do you know if someone is suitable for a job? How can you decide that in just a few hours?
‘I thought I’d ask Lynsey if
‘I reckon he’s afraid he’s going to end up in the microwave,’ Drew says, moving closer. ‘Did you know they eat guinea pigs in Peru?’
‘No?’ Shannon says, looking up, wide-eyed with horror.
‘It’s true,’ says Izzy, confirming Drew’s observation.
‘Have you eaten one, then?’ Shannon says, her voice trembling. ‘Oh, don’t tell me …’
‘I have not,’ says Izzy. ‘What about you, Drew? Have you eaten guinea pig on your travels?’
‘I did travel up through Peru and Bolivia,’ Drew says, neither confirming nor denying the accusation.
‘I shouldn’t worry,’ Emma says. ‘We aren’t going to eat any of our patients here.’ She grins and I can feel everyone relax. The guinea pig stops squeaking. ‘It wouldn’t be good for business.’
‘Would you mind having a look at the Westie while you’re here?’ Izzy asks. ‘I need to know if you’re going to open her up today or whether I can feed her.’
‘How is she?’ Emma asks, sounding a little guilty, I think, because she hadn’t sorted the inpatients out before collecting Drew from the station.
‘I’ll get her out,’ I offer.
‘Allow me,’ says Drew.
‘What about your suit – I mean, your boss’s suit?’ I point out.
Drew glances down at his attire. ‘He won’t mind,’ he says.
‘You can have a pinny,’ Izzy calls. ‘They’re in the dispenser beside the sink.’
I fetch him one. He puts the plastic apron on over his head, but he can’t tie it round his waist because the ties don’t reach – not that he’s fat. Far from it. Drew heads for the cage, where the Westie takes one look at him and turns her back. Joining him, I unfasten the catch.
‘Come here, Delilah,’ I call softly, at which she looks round.
‘She seems a bit shy,’ Drew observes. ‘What’s she in for?’
‘Persistent vomiting,’ Emma interjects.
‘She hasn’t been sick overnight,’ Izzy says from the prep bench as Drew lifts her out and cuddles her to his chest. At first Delilah stares at him, her ears down and tail still.
‘You’re a cute little thing,’ Drew says, and I wonder if he says that to all the girls, then think he probably doesn’t have to. Delilah seems hooked anyway. She wriggles up towards his face, resting her paws on his shoulder before, tail wagging, she licks at his nose. ‘Where do you want her?’ He takes her towards the prep bench and Delilah stops her licking. I see her eyes fix on the guinea pig.
‘Shannon, put the guinea pig away, please,’ I say quickly, sensing trouble. The guinea pig might be safe from the staff, but it’s in imminent danger of being eaten by one of our other patients, and I don’t want to have to explain that one.
Shannon whisks it away, then returns to spray the bench and remove the nail clippings while Drew hangs on to an overexcited Delilah so Emma can check her over. She explains the detail of the case to Drew and I feel a little embarrassed on her behalf because she makes it all sound terribly technical as if she’s out to impress. She doesn’t have to – it’s Drew who’s supposed to be impressing us, and I’m not sure that he’s making enough effort. He seems to like the animals and some of them like him, but he seems rather vague when Emma’s talking about laboratory parameters to measure pancreatitis and liver function.
Still, he must know his stuff, mustn’t he? It’s a slight niggle, the tiniest doubt, which remains in my mind for some time after Drew’s gone, and one that I raise with Emma when we’re upstairs in the flat, raising glasses of fizzy water later the same evening. (We don’t have wine – I’m on call and Emma’s thinking of the baby.)
How do you know if someone is suitable for a job? How can you decide that in just a few hours?
‘I thought I’d ask Lynsey if
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