“See you in the morning,” said Darby as she opened the door and ran into an almost hysterical Henrietta James, who was clutching her new puppy, Scarecrow, wrapped in a towel.
“Thank God you’re still here. There’s something wrong with Scarecrow. He’s throwing up and gagging, and I can’t get him to stop.”
Darby backed into the clinic, dropped her backpack and took Scarecrow into her arms. She could feel the little guy trembling. “How long has he been like this?”
“Since this morning. I didn’t want to panic too soon. You know how I get after losing Trixie so suddenly. But it’s getting worse not better.”
“When did it start?”
“I’m not sure. Only got him on Saturday. He slept most of yesterday, but I figured it was because it was such a rainy cold day. We have an appointment for tomorrow, but I didn’t feel it was safe to wait any longer.”
“Good thinking. Where did you get him?”
“Puppies on Parade in Virginia Beach. He’s so cute. A little on the thin side for a Cairn, but I know I can fatten him up. Then when he wouldn’t eat his puppy food I got concerned, so I made him some plain chicken. He ate some.”
“Drinking water?”
“Not a lot. Dr. Darby, something’s wrong.”
“Come on. Let’s see what we can figure out.” Darby led the way into exam room one. “Josie, could you call Ashley and tell her I’m going to be late?”
“Already done.” Darby shot her a grateful look.
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