Chapter 4

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Another lonely day of school and Shy found herself walking to the shelter instead of taking the bus, simply to avoid being around other people her age. At lunch she had made it to the doorway of the cafeteria and located Mara sitting at a crowded table filled with punk-looking kids before turning tail and fleeing to the library.

Dr. Fleiss's car was parked in front of the shelter. Inside, the door to the room off the office was open and she could see the wolfhound strapped to the table in there. The little room was Dr. Fleiss's office, stocked with everything he might need for simple procedures, because he was there so often.

Martha was about to take a couple in their thirties and their young daughter into the kennel. "Has he found anything unusual?" Shy asked her.

"No rabies, but that's all I know," Martha said. "You can go on in and watch." She led the family into the back.

Shy dropped her book bag behind the desk and entered Dr. Fleiss's office. The wolfhound was bound to the metal table with leather straps across its neck and middle, with smaller straps around its paws. There was a strap undone near its head.

"Hey, Shy, how are things going?" Dr. Fleiss asked.

"Pretty good," Shy said. She watched as he flicked on a flashlight and with gloved fingers opened the wolfhound's mouth. He bent his graying head and peered through the gaping teeth. Adjusting his small glasses, he jotted his observations onto a form on the counter.

"He's got big canines, for a canine," Dr. Fleiss said.

Shy laughed politely at Dr. Fleiss's attempt at a joke, and stepped closer. "So, is he healthy?"

"As a horse. No rabies, no worms. I still have to take a blood sample for the lab, but I thought maybe you could help me do that?"

"Sure!"

Dr. Fleiss showed her how to shave off a small patch of fur near one of the major veins and sterilize the area. He then talked Shy through inserting the needle and drawing out the blood. With the vet's instructions, Shy performed the task perfectly. Veterinary school would be a cinch, if she could pass all her science classes.

The wolfhound started to wake up soon after Dr. Fleiss let her give the dog a shot of heartworm preventative. The dog attempted to stretch, then froze when it felt the tight bonds. Shy stood by its head and stroked it. "It's okay, boy, don't worry," she told it.

"Be careful," Dr. Fleiss said. "Martha says it was pretty riled up yesterday."

"I will." The wolfhound, however, seemed calm, and didn't strain against the bonds. The brown eyes looked up at her trustingly.

"Now let's see if this old boy's neutered." Dr. Fleiss reached between the dog's hind legs.

Immediately the dog's head flew up and snapped at the air. Shy jumped backward, banging into the wall of the small room. Her heart beat fast, and it took a few seconds to get her breath back.

Dr. Fleiss, on the other hand, calmly stepped away and watched the dog's behavior. Growls came from the dog's throat, and its head faced the aging vet with those big canine teeth bared.

Dr. Fleiss turned his back and prepared a syringe with tranquilizer. Staying well away from the dog's head, he drugged the dog, then quickly finished the exam. "Nope, not neutered. I'll have to tell Martha to call the mobile unit to come by and do it soon. If he's feral—and he seems to be—he'll terrorize any dog you put him out with, and that could be dangerous, considering his size."

"But the SPAN truck isn't due back for two weeks or so," Shy said.

"Just a suggestion, if you can get them out here. The sooner the better." Shy started to drift out to the kennel to get started on the day's work, but Dr. Fleiss stopped her. "You'll have to help me carry him back to his pen. He's real heavy, one-fifty at least."

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