Helping Hands by Laurie Halse Anderson

worry,” she quickly adds, “Mittens came through the surgery and was her old self in days.”
    The bell on the front door jingles, and an instant later, Dr. Gabe rushes into the room. “Hello, hello,” he says pleasantly. “I see our good friend Ranger is back for a return engagement.”
    He quickly takes Ranger’s vital signs—his temperature, pulse, and rate of breathing. Sunita writes all the numbers down and repeats Mr. Fedor’s information as Dr. Gabe feels Ranger’s belly and checks his gums. Ranger whimpers but is so lethargic he doesn’t struggle or squirm.
    â€œIs he going to be okay?” Mr. Fedor asks anxiously.
    Dr. Gabe steps over to the sink, rolls up his sleeves, and starts scrubbing his hands with antiseptic soap and a brush. “He’s a little dehydrated, and he’s in shock. First thing is to get some fluids into him; then I’ll X-ray his stomach and digestive tract. That should show us what we’re dealing with. Jules, will you please take Mr. Fedor into the waiting room?”
    â€œI’d rather stay with Ranger,” Mr. Fedor says. “I can help keep him calm.”
    â€œI know you can,” Dr. Gabe says kindly. “It’s obvious how much you two love each other. But there’s a small chance I might need to operate quickly. The best thing you can do for Ranger is to hold him in your heart and wait for him out there.”
    He glances at Jules, and she springs into action.
    â€œCome on, Mr. Fedor.” She lightly touches his elbow. “I’ll show you the most comfortable chair. Can I make you some tea?”
    Mr. Fedor looks forlornly at Ranger. “Bye, buddy,” he says as he leans in to kiss the dog’s head. “I’ll see you soon.”
    Ranger’s tail thumps weakly on the table. Mr. Fedor sniffs loudly and follows my sister out the door.
    â€œSunita, I need an IV bag.” Dr. Gabe is already shaving a patch of fur off Ranger’s foreleg. “Do you want to stay for this, Josh?”
    I nod before I think too much about what he’s saying.
    Dr. Gabe rubs antiseptic on the shaved patch of leg. “Scrub up.”
    Sunita joins me at the sink after she hands Dr. Gabe the IV solution, both of us watching him over our shoulders as we scrub our hands with stiff brushes. He inserts a needle into Ranger’s leg and gets the IV fluid flowing before I remember that needles make me queasy. There’s no time for that today.
    â€œThis will hydrate Ranger and, I hope, stabilize him a bit,” Dr. Gabe explains. He unlocks a cabinet and fills two syringes from bottles inside it, then injects the fluid in the syringes into the IV line. “This first one is a sedative and the other is an antibiotic, because this big guy is fighting one heck of an infection.”
    He flicks the brakes off the wheels of the exam table with the toe of his shoe. “I’m going to run him down for X-rays. You two stay here until I call.”
    â€œAre you sure you don’t need help holding him down?” Sunita inquires.
    Dr. Gabe looks grim. “No, he’s just lost consciousness, so I can handle it on my own.”
    He’s halfway down the hall before I can speak.
    â€œDoes he always move that fast?” I ask.
    â€œOnly in emergencies,” Sunita says with a serious face.
    â€œWhat happens next?”
    â€œIt depends on what the X-ray shows. If Ranger really ate that leash, Dr. Gabe will have to open him up to get it out of there.”
    My stomach flops. “Surgery?”
    â€œIt’s the only way in a case like this.”
    â€œI’m not really a Vet Volunteer, you know. I don’t know what to do.”
    â€œIt’s okay, Josh,” Sunita says with a kind smile. “Dr. Gabe’s the one who went to four years of college and six years of vet school. I’m allowed to hand him instruments, but that’s because I’ve seen a lot of