Risk Factors. Calisa Rhose

years, enough to harden him against it. If that was possible.

      Had the pain been worse when his mother and her new man left him at home as a seven-year-old, never to return, or when Robin walked out? He’d thought she loved him but she’d left him, a scared new father, with a three-month-old infant. Definitely, both instances had scarred him deeply. Both made him steadfast and determined to be the best father for Janna. Strengthened his resolve not to ever allow her to feel alone or abandoned. And both gave him the conviction to avoid pain of that magnitude again.

      His job had taught Connor to build the shell around him against pain. How did a parent prepare a seven-year-old child to lose a best friend? Heidi had been a gift from his dad before he and Robin married, and naturally became a favorite for Janna as she grew. Now, at twelve, Heidi showed signs of aging. No longer spry, so slow to rise, her hearing was also practically gone and her eyesight had diminished drastically. Arthritis supplements helped her move about, but the sand in the hourglass emptied fast. Time traveled against the old gal.

      Maybe one of the dogs from Heidi’s bloodline would have puppies next year. It would be nice to get a puppy for Heidi to teach the ropes to before she crossed the rainbow bridge. It would also give Janna a buffer when the time came, something to hold to and represent Heidi.

      For now, Connor needed to get to work. He was leaving early today to get his annual physical, and he’d already asked his dad to pick up Skittles if he ran too late, though the thought of picking up his daughter’s skunk did give him a sense of misplaced anticipation. He refused to acknowledge it might be the idea of seeing Doctor Dane again that caused the sensation.

      * * * *

      “Good morning Skittles. How are you today?” Viv peeked into the kennel. “Well, you must be feeling better, by the looks of your empty dish.”

      Somber brown eyes viewed her with suspicion from the rear corner of the wire cage where Skittles huddled. She knew just how the skunk felt. She had no desire to become friends with the animal either. The poor thing hadn’t been thrilled with the X-ray process, but Viv was relieved it hadn’t been a serious illness. A small intestinal blockage proved to be nothing more than something Skittles couldn’t digest on her own. Enema–the miracle cure–and a couple of Tums, had made the critter feel normal again. Or Viv supposed she was back to her old self, for a skunk.

      After refilling the food dish and topping off the water bowl, she left the skunk to tend to business. Coffee.

      “Hel-lo-oo?”

      Must she always be doomed to be hiding in the bowels of her practice whenever a new customer rang the little bell on the front desk? A flip of the switch started coffee, then she hurried to the front office. A thin older woman she recognized from the post office stood at the counter frowning. Did all the people in this town frown when they took their pets to the vet?

      “Good morning. Can I help you?” Viv spotted a green pet taxi on the floor near the woman’s feet, a small nose poking at the wire door.

      “My Tabitha is pregnant and should’ve birthed last week. She started labor yesterday, but something’s wrong.”

      “Wrong, how?”

      “She pushes and nothing happens. I’d take her into Joplin, but she doesn’t like car rides much.” Meaning she’d rather go to another vet, but since Viv was the only one available for miles, she would do?

      She forced a smile in hopes of winning the woman over for both their sakes. “All right. Why don’t we take her to the exam room?” She led the woman to one of the two small sterile rooms and put latex gloves on while the woman retrieved her cat from the carrier. “I’m Vivian Dane.”

      “Elsbeth Crenshaw.”

      “It’s a pleasure to meet you officially, Mrs. Crenshaw, and Tabitha too, of course. It’s common for a cat to go over her due date.” Anxiety and excitement often made a person react stronger than necessary when it came to their beloved pet. Even after all the little four-legged ones she’d delivered, Viv still felt a sense of awe at new life, human or animal.

      It was the one of the times she thanked her parents for leading her to this line of work. The rest of the time… Why did she work so hard to make them proud of her? What did it matter? Viv did what she did because she wanted to make animals more comfortable and happy, not to please her dad. No, definitely not for that reason. If that ever became the driving force, she’d sell out and join Uncle Max in Arizona.

      She pushed those thoughts away and focused on her patient. “How old is she? Is this her first litter?”

      “Tabby’s four, and no, it’s not her first litter. It’s her third. I sell her babies on the Inter Net,” she said the word as two, while glowering at Viv. Did the woman expect her to expound on the evils of unknown certainties for pets sold over the Internet?

      Viv decided to not let her down, while still giving her the benefit of doubt. “I’m sure you research the new owners before letting the kittens go to an unknown future. I think that’s a wise approach when re-homing defenseless animals in a world filled with such cruel intentions.” A few times during school she’d seen unconscionable atrocities that almost made her change careers.

      Her parents had pushed her to stay the course and become a source of safety for such mistreated animals. Actually, their disgust at her perceived cowardice convinced her to push on. Daily. Uncle Max’s support and love made perseverance the right decision.

      Elsbeth glared as Viv set up the ultra-sound machine.

      “Young lady, I don’t sell my babies to strangers. I’m sure that’s what people might do in the city you’re from. I have a regular customer base, a small store in Saint Louie. My sister, Matilda, owns it and finds loving homes for all my babies. I email pictures for the customers to pick from before I send the cats to Mattie.”

      Viv smiled at the way she pronounced St. Louis. At least the adoptions weren’t as bad as some methods. Hopefully the sister of this sour woman took great care in adopting out the kittens. “Good, much better than uncertainty of strangers. Now, let’s see if we can determine what’s going on with Tabitha.” She smeared a glop of clear gel on the nose of the probe and asked Elsbeth to hold the cat firmly while she moved the camera over the tabby’s full belly. Being so late in term made it impossible to determine the number of kittens, but active movement indicated a good outcome.

      The tiny camera relayed images onto the portable monitor and Viv frowned, focusing attention on the left side. Oh, dear. “I think I see Tabitha’s problem. It would take an X-ray to be sure at this stage of the pregnancy, but I think I see a dead kitten tangled in the umbilical cord, blocking the birth canal. X-rays can be harmful to all the babies, so I’d rather do a cesarean rather than risk ill health to the rest.”

      “Oh, my. Will it hurt Tabby?”

      No matter how gruff and sour the woman acted toward her, it was apparent Elsbeth cared deeply for the feline between them, and that warmed Viv’s heart. She smiled at the older woman, who seemed frail suddenly. “Not at all. It’s a simple surgery to save the healthy kittens and Tabitha. It won’t take longer than thirty minutes, if you want to wait out front.”

      “Yes, I’ll wait. Will Tabby be okay to care for the kittens? I’m too old to hand feed a litter of babies and run the post office.”

      “It will be fine. I’ll do a side cut so it shouldn’t interfere with nursing, and animals generally have a high tolerance for pain in these circumstances. Their natural instincts take over, and you most likely won’t even know if she feels any discomfort.”

      This fact in animals always amazed Viv. Rarely did the four-legged counterparts abandon their children the way humans did. Even in pain, a mother animal would feed her babies to ensure survival of the species.

      After seeing the woman to the lobby, Viv carried the cat to her surgical station. Poor thing was in too much pain to fight, and went under anesthesia easily. A small cut in the left edge of the abdomen wall allowed Viv to remove the dead kitten and five