Chapter 1
Mellie positioned the sterilized tray of surgical tools beside the little dog sprawled across the operating table. Shaved in a wide swath down his back, the dachshund’s front paws were strapped forward, his back legs secured behind. A canine in prayer.
Mellie sensed no consciousness, only a dark emptiness. A dreamless sleep.
She inhaled her own warm breath inside the blue surgical mask. In her last semester of vet school, she would only be allowed to observe this complex operation.
In blue scrubs, supervising faculty Dr. James Swinford and young resident Dr. Kirk Jameson hovered over the dog.
“Ready.” The anesthetist sat on a stool at the dog’s head and monitored the heart rate and breathing. The black anesthesia bag hung from a tube that snaked down the dog’s throat.
“Did you see that?” Mellie focused on the dachshund. He dreamed of table scraps. An old woman slipped food from her plate to him. He shouldn’t be dreaming. Or thinking.
“See what?” Dr. Swinford eyed Mellie. Tufts of graying hair escaped his blue surgical cap and curled behind his ears.
“He moved.” She couldn’t tell them that she sensed the dog’s thoughts, even his dreams. They wouldn’t understand. No one ever did.
The anesthetist checked the monitors. “He’s under. And I see no movement.”
The dog in the dream wolfed down the table scraps and accepted a pat on the head from the old lady.
“I’m pretty sure I saw him move.” Mellie’s eyes met those of Kirk Jameson’s. Surely, he would not want to perform neurosurgery on an under-anesthetized patient.
“He’s ready.” The anesthetist did not touch the black bag.
Kirk held the scalpel in the air for a long moment. He glanced at the monitors. His eyes questioned Mellie.
“Students do not get to make these kinds of decisions.” Dr. Swinford crossed his arms. “Go ahead, Dr. Jameson.”
“All right.” Reluctant, Kirk stared for a moment at the spinal area. He placed the scalpel on the dachshund’s back near the twelfth vertebrae and slit the skin toward the tail.
Fire rushed down Mellie’s back, a pain so intense she could no longer breathe. “Oh, God. Please stop.” She dropped to her knees.
In the dog’s dream, the old lady fell to the floor. The plate clattered behind her.
Just before Mellie lost consciousness, the horrified anesthetist squeezed the black bag. But Mellie could only see black and red, the colors of pain. Black. Red. Black. Red. Then she could see nothing at all.
Lady Nadia. Nick and Nadia are siblings and shelter rescues. Nadia is very affectionate and just wants to be loved. Constantly. She's also very polite. She taps you on the arm to request petting.