Manatee Blues Read Online Free Page A

lung strong, respiratory rate once a minute,” Gretchen says. “Heartrate once a second.” The assistant writes down all the information, just like we take notes for Dr. Mac and Dr. Gabe at the clinic.
    Carlos fills a clean syringe with clear fluid from a glass vial. The needle on the syringe is enormous, at least three inches long. Then he sticks the needle just above Violet’s peduncle and injects the fluid into her.
    “That’s an antibiotic,” Dr. Mac says. “That will help fight any infection that Violet has. He’s rubbing the area where he inserted the needle to distribute the antibiotics better.”
    “Wait a minute,” Zoe says to Dr. Mac. “How come they haven’t taken her temperature, or looked in her mouth, or checked her ears—all those things you do at the clinic?”
    “They don’t want to stress her body out any more than is absolutely necessary,” Dr. Mac explains. “Dogs and cats are used to being touched by people and can tolerate more poking and prodding. There is a real art to treating wild animals. The vet has to watch the animal’s behavior to figure out how she’s feeling.”
    I can understand that. At home when we’re rehabbing a fox or deer, we have to do the same thing.
    “Do you want to X-ray her now?” Carlos asks Gretchen.
    Gretchen cracks her knuckles, surveying her patient. “I don’t know. Her ribs are broken and her lung is punctured. Plus she has contaminated wounds and is fighting infection. She is one stressed puppy.”
    She looks up to where we sit, on the concrete above her. “To X-ray, we have to anesthetize her. She’s very weak right now, and I’m afraid the stress of the anesthesia and additional movement will be too much for her.”
    “Let’s tap the chest, flush her cuts, and patch them up,” she tells Carlos. “She needs to chill out for a while. We’ll tube-feed her every four hours and reassess her condition in the morning. If she’s stronger then, we’ll X-ray and do a serious cleaning of the prop wounds.”
    When the propeller cuts have been washed out, Gretchen and Carlos lay an enormous disinfectant-soaked bandage across Violet’s side. It’s bigger than a beach towel. Gretchen takes a tube of something out of her medical kit and dabs it on the edges of the bandage.
    “Guess what this is,” she calls up to us. “Superglue. It’s the only thing that keeps these bandages on.” She injects a local painkiller into the skin on Violet’s back, then inserts a large syringe with a thick needle into her chest. She pulls up on the plunger of the syringe.
    “That’s tapping the chest,” Dr. Mac explains. “She’s removing the air that leaked into the chest cavity so Violet will be able to expand her collapsed lung again. I’ve done the same thing on dogs plenty of times.”
    When the chest tap is complete, Gretchen starts to clean up. “All right, gang, let’s get this girl in the water.”
    The staff quickly pick up all the equipment from the floor of the chute and climb up the ladder. One of the assistants walks over to a small control box on the wall and pushes a few buttons. Water begins to flow into the chute.
    When the water is as high as Gretchen’s knees, it stops. She and Carlos remove the sling, which Violet is now floating over. They run their hands over the bandage to make sure it is holding.
    “Looks good,” Gretchen says. “Time for some peace and quiet, Violet.”
    She and Carlos climb out of the chute, bringing the sling with them. The assistant lets more water into the chute. When the chute is totally full, the door that leads to the exhibit tank opens, and Violet swims through it. She moves very slowly, more like she’s swimming through Jell-O than water.
    “Is she going to make it?” I ask.
    Gretchen studies her patient. “We’ll know better in a few days. Carlos will keep an eye on her for now. Why don’t I show you around?”

Chapter Five

    G retchen leads us down the stairs to the middle of the rescue center,