“Yeah, whoa.” She slid her finger over the screen to get to the lateral shot of his spine. “Severe compression. Jeez. He’s likely had this for a while.”
“Can you tell this layman exactly what his problem is?” Declan asked.
“Of course.” Evie shared the image with him. “See those two vertebrae kind of crushed together? This disease is essentially compression on the spinal cord, which can, in certain positions, cause excruciating nerve pain.”
He made a face and glanced at the dog. “Damn. We thought that howling was just a breed thing. I’m sorry, big guy.” He looked back to the X-rays. “What causes it?”
“We don’t know,” Evie answered honestly. “Wobbler Syndrome has been misunderstood for so long, I think it has at least fourteen different veterinary terms. Usually, it’s cervical spondylomyelopathy, which translates to…neck vertebrae smooshing the spinal cord.”
Evie gave the dog a look of sympathy, but everything she’d seen now fit together in her brain and compelled her to place a soothing hand on his furry head. “Lifting his head too high can be agonizing,” she explained. “And he’s adopted a clumsy gait to accommodate that. Isn’t that right, baby? You’re trying to fix yourself.”
“Oh, no wonder he whines and trips over himself.” Declan turned back to the dog. “And one of those knuckleheads at the station called you an oaf. I’m sorry, bud.” After a sigh, he asked, “So what do we do for this boy?”
She liked that Declan took ownership of a very sick dog he’d known for only seventy-two hours, especially when she suspected the cost and trouble associated with the treatment were why Lusky had been abandoned in the first place.
“Normally, I’d start with a program of pain relief and physical therapy, but that should have been done a long time ago. We can certainly dull any pain, but it won’t solve the underlying problem.”
“Surgery?”
“He’ll likely need it,” she said. “But I’d love to take him over to Vestal Valley and do an MRI, which will tell us so much more.”
“Whatever you suggest,” Declan said. “Is he suffering?”
“Not as long as he stays on a low-dose pain med,” Dr. K said. “And, like Evie said, he knows how to manage his pain by not moving in certain ways.”
“His activity has to be restricted, though,” Evie added. “Only short walks. A collar’s fine, but no leash, and we should limit his movement. He should be with someone as much as possible.” She looked into Lusky’s eyes, feeling the connection as their gazes met. “He’s a people guy, I can tell.”
“He is that,” Declan said. “He whines the minute I leave a room, then gets up to follow, and that makes him howl, but now I know why. How can you know that already?”
She gave a shrug. “Gut instinct, I guess.”
Dr. K put a hand on her shoulder. “Evie has always been the most tender and empathetic surgeon I know.”
“Oh, thank you,” she said.
“Agreed,” Molly chimed in. “Every animal is like your own child.”
She smiled at the compliments, turning back to the dog to get the attention off of her. “They are babies,” she said. “You just need some love and attention, right? Maybe peanut butter and bacon, too.”
His eyes flickered at the word bacon, making them all laugh. “Well, he knows what bacon is,” she joked.
“Which we have plenty of at Waterford,” Molly said. “And vet techs who can work overnight, too.”
Evie nodded, trying to ignore the ache building in her chest as she looked into the dog’s eyes. “Will he be crated?” she asked.
“I’m afraid if he’s in one of our bigger kennels, he’d have a little too much freedom of movement,” Dr. K said. “So we’ll keep him in our holding and healing room, which actually has another patient right now, so he won’t be completely alone.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, imagining his sad face as he rested in a cage.
Declan angled his head, looking at her. “You don’t like that idea.”
She laughed softly. “Am I that transparent?”
“To me.”
Her heart nearly flipped in her chest. “I know you have an amazing staff here, and he’ll be in such good hands,” she said quickly. “We should do the MRI first thing tomorrow, if we can get into Vestal Valley.”
“I have some pull there,” Dr. K said, taking out his phone. “Let me make a call.”
“Let me go see if I can grab our weekend vet tech you can talk to,” Molly added, stepping out after her father.
“Thanks.” Evie bit her lip, barely aware that she’d tunneled her fingers into Lusky’s thick fur. “You’ll be in good hands, love,” she whispered.
“But you’d like him in your hands.”
At Declan’s words, and the sweet, soft way they were spoken, she looked up at him. “I do have a lot of room, and…would you mind?”
He laughed. “I don’t think there’s any stopping you at this point. Dog in need,” he said to Lusky, “meet your new best friend. And roommate.”
“Really?” She felt her whole face brighten. “You wouldn’t mind if I kind of kidnapped him while we get him better?”
“On one condition,” he said, his eyes glinting with a hint of that tease she’d missed.
She lifted a brow and tried to ignore the quiver that ran through her at the possibility that his condition might be…an evening together. “Anything.” Because her answer would be yes.
As he was about to reply, Molly and Dr. K walked in.
“We’re good to go at Vestal Valley,” Dr. K said.
“Vet tech can stay all night,” Molly added.
“Actually, Lusky’s going home with Evie,” Declan said. “That is, if I can also get her to perform his surgery.”
That was his condition? So, not a date. Chill, Evie, chill.
“Me?” She hadn’t picked up a scalpel in nearly a year. She was emotionally invested in Lusky’s owner, whether she wanted to admit it or not. And she was far from the elite surroundings of NC State’s facilities.
“I think it’s a great idea,” Molly said.
“There isn’t a surgeon in the state with your skills,” Dr.
