Robert

Chapter Six: Beth

Beth was early today. She could tell the good doctor liked it. He was his usual sour self for atleast an hour today. It was his knew record. Docter Charles Corlby owned the oldest veterinary in Georgetown. Located at the very edge of Westlane, it served to mark the beginning of residential areas. Being this close to homes you would think it would be the busiest vet in town. This was not so.

The homes it was closest to prefered more morden establishments. This was largely because the people in those homes were part of the rich and powerful of the town. Well, they were the part that couldn't live in Highrow. Only a few customers were regulars and only because they had been coming  here long since before there were any other vets. These faithful patrons were old timers that remembered the days when Beth's grandfather was mayor. The rest of the population shunned the place despite the doctors continued insistence that what they provided was continuity.

Despite whatever flaws others saw in the place, Beth had come to love everything about Veterinary. She loved the smell of animals, she loved the barking, meowing, hooting even bleating, the old equipment, the musty smell of parchment. She even had grown fond of the doctor despite his effort on having the opposite effect. She had mentioned it to her assistant one day and she noticed the doctors look of horror as he eavesdropped on the conversation.

The place had become sort of a home to her. A place to escape her mother, her new father and her new siblings. This was the only place that was still the same, that hadn't been taken from her, and she took solace from that. The familiarity of it became her daily dose of fresh air.

Beth delighted in the sight of Doctor Corlby scowling, his bushy moustache twitching, bald head gleaming, while Robert repeatedly apologised for forgetting to feed the birds, while he secretly pocketed the money he would have won from their bets. She loved it when Mrs Orally lumbered in smelling of eucalyptus, dressed in her pearls with Spike under her arm, complaining about how he, refered to as this ole scally wag, wasnt  eating enough.

Better yet, when Mr Nancy would would visit with his snow white poodle, Moon, and his peacock, Sunset. The old man's skin was the colour of teak yet blended perfectly with the flamboyant displays of colour of his pets. He would always swagger in bent over his ivory cane (how he accomplished that feat Beth had not discovered yet but she did know he refered to this as peacocking) and two leashes in a gloved hand, his suit a different colour each visit. Robb and her made a game of guessing which colour he would wear next. Her young assistant never won.

The best was Mrs McGee. The old lady was a Japanese of noble birth and she would shower Beth with tales of the rising sun and old dynasties. Her constant companion was most curious of all. A silver monkey. It was the symbol of her house she told Beth once, and everyone got one as a friend. Mrs McGee would recall the days of her youth with such nostalgia that Beth could not help but fall in love with them herself. One of Mrs McGee's more favourite stories was how she and Mr McGee first met. She always insisted that it wasn't a story for children but she always told it all the same. Indeed it was a story that made even the good doctor blush.

Nowadays the stories made her a little sad because she knew how Mrs McGee felt when recalling days long gone. She alway felt that way when she thought of her father.

Beth set out to do her usual chores. This was a part time job but it didn't seem part time any more. She had been cooming here for three years now, even on weekends. Her job was to help the good doctor with whatever he would be doing that day, even if it occasionally involved avioding the tax people. She usually stayed at the counter though. In turn, she had an assistant of her own to "assist the assisting" in the good doctor's own terms. Robert was the errand boy. He fetched the constant stream of coffee and fed the animals they kept overnight. Together they were the Magic Three, the driving force of the musty old Hunting Man Veterinary.

Friday's were the busiest so she always came early, and neatly dressed. Today Bethesda had even made an effort to cover up her freckles with make up she found in her mother's drawer. She didnt look as pretty as other girls in high school but in her green floral dress with her auburn hair loose she didn't look so bad. Or so she hoped.

Her parents always said she was pretty, chiefly her father. It made her sad to think she would never see him grin and stutter like a teenager asking her out on her first date. Her new dad tries to be like him but it just isn't the same. It never will be.

The days first customer was Jenna from Billward. Her mother couldn't come, she explained idly to the good doctor as he examined the old tom cat she brought, so she had to bring the old bastard. Apparently the cat had been in several streetfights, and had been victorious she was proud to say, but the neighbours were getting concerned. One had even asked if the cat had rabies. She was here to find out, she said, much to her mother's disapproval. The cat did not have rabies.

The next customer was a new one. He was an old lumberjack by the look of him but he introduced himself as Mr Maguire, the owner of a cattle ranch just outside of town. He had a warm sunburnt face and an even warmer smile that seemed to match the old bloodhound he brought with him. Despite his shabby overalls, he looked quite neat.

The dog on the other hand wasn't so pleasant. Maguire brought the bloodhound in chains.

"He's feverish," the doctor told her.

"Prune to bolting or fainting. Strap him down."

That proved a difficult task. In the end it took the combined efforts of the doctor, her and Robb with Mr Maguire soothing him along the way.

"He started doing this after we went hunting," said Mr Maguire. "It was mild at first, just confussion and he would fall down sometimes. A few days later I could tell something was wrong. Otis was always a friendly dog but then he became aggressive, if get my meaning. He started biting and snapping at everyone, even me."

"Did he get bit by something?" Beth asked. "If so, it could rabies or maybe just delirium from an infected wound."

The doctor nodded his approval.

"No, but he got a little scratch, and that  healed up pretty well," Mr Maguire said.

"Where?" Beth said.

Maguire pointed out thin scar. Beth prodded it and the dog whimpered.

"This might be the problem," she said.
The doctor nodded. "We'll need to operate him," he said pulling on some latex gloves. "Bring the injection, the sleepy one."

"Anesthetic," the Doctor corrected, clicking his tongue. "Never call it the sleepy one. Ever."

After the dog was safely unconscious. They began the procedure. They were half way through when the dog woke up suddenly and lashed out. At the sight of Beth and Corlby covered in blood it went berserk, but at the sight of Robert it lost its mind.

It veered at him and bit his hand, spraying blood everywhere. Robert, surprisingly, pulled back his hand calmly. Flesh ripped and the dogs jaws lost their grip. Beth grabbed the dogs muzzle and she had a low growl deeper than anything she had ever heard from a dog.

She looked at Robert. He was staring at the dog, his face expressionless.

They upped the dosage. The good doctor took Robert behind to tend to the bite and Beth was left to look after the unconscious dog with Mr Maguire pacing the room anxiously. After a few minutes the docter returned alone.
They finished the surgury taking care to give a regular dose of anesthetic. After they were done the dog was taken to the back room to rest.

The rest of the day was uneventful. The regular clients paid house calls, some for the company, others with pets that needed check up. She took particular care with a green mamba that, according to the nine year old girl that owned it, had a stomach ache. Beth assumed that no other vet had been brave enough to take care of this.
She watched the doctor make his examinations with frightful eyes. The diagnosis was a pregnancy. At this the girl squealed with delight.

As the end of her shift approached Beth went to check on Otis. Mr Maguire would be here for him soon, she thought, and she would rather leave everything in good condition. Robert had left early due to his hand being hurt so the task of checking on the patients fell to her.

She found the dog dead, it's entrails spilling from its gut and its jaws closed over it's own flesh.