The Quake

Chapter 2

"Ow dammit." Erin fought the instinct to put her injured finger in her mouth. Cat bites were disgusting. She didn't need that bacteria introduced to her intestinal tract.

The bland middle aged woman who'd brought the offending feline in, wilted a little. "Sorry," she mumbled in a voice so quiet Erin could barely hear her.

Erin painted on what she hoped was a reassuring smile for Alice Lakey, "It comes with the territory." She unhooked the cat from her shirt front, placing it firmly on the metal table between herself and the owner. The hell cat probably had a UTI which was making it cranky. "I think I have identified the problem, but I need to run a test to be sure," she said. "I'm going to take Cuddles in the back, do you want to say goodbye?"

Alice looked startled. "He's coming back, right?"

Erin gritted her teeth. "Yes, he'll be right back. You just seemed so worried about him, I thought you might need to comfort him."

This time Alice gave her a suspicious look.

Erin shrugged, then football carried the cat outta there, shutting the solid wood door carefully behind her. That particular owner did not need to see up close and personal what it took to get a urine sample out of this creature.

Erin carried the cat gingerly down the long hallway past the other three patient rooms. The clinic was a small but study L shaped building. From here at the curve of the L, she could just see Karen surfing the internet at her reception desk. She passed the doors at the bend, one leading to the surgery the other to the dumpsters out back. The next room she passed was for large equipment storage. It always smelled like a mixture of gasoline and antiseptic cleaner. She didn't go in there much, but one day Joey promised she'd get a key to the locked door within.

The last room on the short hall was an all-purpose sort of room containing the clinic's kennels, a table-top Sysmex blood analyzer, microscope, urine dipstick reader, water purifier and storage bins for the various other supplies small vet care needed. She placed the very disgruntled cat on a small plastic examination table with leash tie downs.

"You need to work on your bedside manner." Erin nearly jumped out of her skin.

A tall wiry man in his mid-thirties who sported Marlboro man smile lines, leaned casually against the wall laughing at her. Erin laid a calming hand on the cat while glaring at Joey, her mentor. "You heard that?" The walls of this clinic were apparently pretty thin. If anything, his shit-eating grin grew wider. "And isn't that something my teacher is supposed to help me with?" The man certainly did subscribe to the sink-or-swim pedagogy of teaching. Watching her fumble to hold the cat with one hand while she dug in a bin to collect a catheter, he made no effort to help, even as Cuddles took another swipe at Erin's wrist.

He should have other things to do, but he must be between appointments. "Some things can't be taught, they can only be lived." Joey smirked.

Erin grunted as she managed to maneuver the squirming beast onto its back. "I don't have time for living, I am always here up to my eyeballs in feces." What she dared not say to anyone was that she loved being too busy to live the way Joey wanted her to. When she was busy, she wasn't overwhelmed by other things.

She reminded herself that she was grateful he'd taken her on, despite her abysmal interview skills. The moment she'd left town for school, he'd appeared out of nowhere and opened the practice of her dreams. She was damn lucky there was a place for her in it. Despite his dubious teaching skills, he was a hard man not to like. After only arriving in Elkton three years ago, Joey fit in like a local – better than Erin anyway.

Finally taking pity on her, he took the vial of urine she'd managed to collect and loaded it onto the machine. "It gets easier after finals are over. How long have you got?"