Pointer Club Cadaver (Mandy Bell DVM Series Book 3) Page 3

  “It’s a little odd. O’Mally is a little odd himself. He has more money than he knows what to do with. He hit it big in his youth in the stock market. It seems everything he touches turns to gold. He does a lot of his business outside of this area. I guess he almost thinks money can buy better outside of Crestview,” said Gillian.

  “Hmm. I don’t think I like him already,” said Mandy.

  “He gives this town a lot. I’m making him sound all bad. He’s not. He’s just a little odd. You’ll see. You’re going to meet him this afternoon. We always make an appearance at the meet so that we touch base with whatever vet he has hired for the week,” said Gillian.

  “I see. I’m quite intrigued,” said Mandy. “Tell me more about this German short-haired meet, anyway.”

  “I will. But I am going to need another cup of tea,” said Gillian.

  “It's good to be back in the land of cups of tea. I missed you and the clinic while I was on house arrest,” said Mandy.

  “Ha. It’s hardly house arrest when it’s for your health,” said Gillian. “The deal with the GSP club is that they have meets all over the country for different qualifications. The group that comes here is mainly into field trials, where they hunt with their handler to see who can point on the most birds in a given period of time. Unfortunately, the areas for a GSP handler to practice are dwindling because of the loss of habitat for quail. Well, for whatever reason, O’Mally is really into the GSP scene. He decided to purposely return a huge section of land back to prairie. Then he released quail and pheasant to re-populate the land,” said Gillian.

  “I like this guy better already, as long as the next words out of your mouth aren’t that they hunt all week until all of the released birds are dead,” said Mandy.

  “Hardly. Those little birds are extremely clever. They are difficult to hunt, especially the large area that he has set aside for them,” said Gillian.

  “Speaking of killing birds. I have a murderer in my midst,” said Mandy. Before she could elucidate, Gillian's face went ghost-white.

  “Excuse me. Another murderer?” asked Gillian.

  “Oh, don't panic. A chicken killer. Someone, likely a fox, sneaked into my chicken house and helped himself to one of my laying ladies. We have to come up with a plan so it doesn’t happen again,” said Mandy.

  Anna and Lyle wandered into the kitchenette. They sniffed around to see if this tea break would be accompanied by any tasty morsels. They did not find any evidence of food so they simultaneously sighed and stretched out on the floor.

  “You know, you could let your dogs protect the animals,” said Gillian.

  “That has occurred to me. It would be fairly hard on me, more so than on them,” said Mandy. “It may come to that. I’ll try a few other things first.”

  “They say that doctors make terrible patients. Well, veterinarians make terrible owners. You have two dogs that were born to be outside, protecting something. You should let them do what they instinctively want to do,” said Gillian.

  “I hear you. I will work on that. Tell me more about the GSP people. And, yes, I am changing the subject,” said Mandy.

  “What else can I tell you about them? Let me see. It’s not really that much work for us. The odd laceration will come in and require suturing. One year we had a few x-rays to do because two dogs got into a ravine and kept limping. The vet that O’Mally hires is different every year it seems. They are thorough and respectful of us and our facilities. That’s about all that I know,” said Gillian.

  “Alright. I see, It’s a lot like when the Coon Dog Club used to meet in the town where I did some relief vetting. Initially I was suspicious that it would be more trouble than it was worth. I feared that I would be called all through the night since that’s when they were running the dogs. It turned out to be pretty interesting. The people who ran the dogs came from all over America. It was like getting a whole geography lesson with each new client who came in. They were all very nice, too,” said Mandy.

  “I think you'll find that to be the case with the GSP people. O’Mally is the only strange one,” said Gillian. “We have a few messages to go over that I have collected while you were out. Then, this afternoon, we will go out to the O’Mally land. Sound good?” asked Gillian.

  “Sure,” said Mandy.

  Chapter 7

  After reviewing all the messages that had stacked up, Mandy and Gillian split the pile in half to do return phone calls. Miraculously, no major emergencies or disasters had slipped through the cracks while Mandy was unavailable. Considering that the preceding weeks before Mandy’s convalescence had been marked by emergencies at all hours of the night, Mandy was shocked at how manageable the case load was. They decided not to make any appointments for today, opting to start scheduling everyone starting tomorrow, with the most pressing cases first.

  It took several hours to check everyone off the list. All of the calls Mandy made went very smoothly. She had worked at clinics where people were not understanding in the least if she even so much as intimated that an appointment would be late for reasons beyond her control. These clients had been told that their vet was off for a week and they had all been patient to wait for the next available appointment when she returned. Mandy was impressed with their respect for her own recovery.

  As Mandy was lost in her thoughts about clients minding their manners in this real but yet surreal town of Crestview, someone busted through the front door, screaming her name.

  “Where is she? Dr. Bell. Is she in yet?” asked the woman in a rather frustrated voice.

  Mandy made eye contact with Gillian, who was rushing to the front desk.

  “Hello Mrs. Shinkel. How can we help?” asked Gillian.

  “I have been calling and calling but there was never any answer or any voice mail. Where is she? I thought she was supposed to be back today. I demand to see her,” said Mrs. Shinkel.

  “Calm down, ma’am. She is here. What can I tell her is the issue?” asked Gillian.

  “My dog just keeps itching. He’s not sleeping and nor am I. He needs some relief of some sort,” said Mrs. Shinkel. Gillian was pulling the file up as Mandy came around the corner.

  “Hi, Mrs. Shinkel,” said Mandy, looking down at the file. “I’m terribly sorry that we did not get back to you sooner. I reviewed all of the messages myself and you were not among them. There must have been some miscommunication. No bother now, I can help make you both more comfortable tonight.”

  “Who takes a week off anyway? What on earth were you doing. It doesn’t matter. Anna would never have abandoned her post. It’s just too bad that there is no other option in Crestview. You are it and you are not exactly taking your job seriously,” said Mrs. Shinkel.

  “Now you hold on,” said Gillian. “Mandy was on required bed rest. She helped save the town from a lunatic two weeks ago. The psychopath ended up poisoning her when she figured it out and she almost died in the process. Do you really think she was just sitting on a beach somewhere. And I know for a fact that you didn’t call. I have been here the whole time, answering phone calls, and making appointments for when Mandy would return. Mind your manners or you will be driving out of Crestview for veterinary care.”

  “Now, now, Gillian. No need to be rude,” said Mandy.

  “I give as good as I get,” said Gillian, giving Mrs. Shinkel a very dirty look.

  “Are you going to help my dog or do I need to drive to the ends of the earth for a vet who wants to work?” asked Mrs. Shinkel. “All I need is a steroid shot and I will be on my way.”

  Gillian exchanged a look with Mandy.

  “Well, I don’t give steroid shots for itching. That is not the right solution. It may help in the short-term but in the long-term, it is causing internal damage to organs that can end up shortening your dog’s life. It is a quick-fix but is only really a band-aid. What we need to do is figure out the root of the problem and fix that,” said Mandy.

  “Are you joking? How long is it going to take until he
is better? We haven’t slept in weeks,” said Mrs. Shinkel.

  “That sounds like an exaggeration,” said Gillian. “Weeks?”

  “I think we can handle it from here,” said Mandy, giving Gillian the hint to leave before she said something she would regret. “Mrs. Shinkel, I understand your frustration. It can be very unsettling to have an itchy dog. Let’s talk about what might be causing it. What do you feed, um, George?” Mandy asked, looking down at the file for the dog’s name.

  “He gets dry dog food and treats,” said Mrs. Shinkel. “I hardly see what that has to do with anything.”

  “Bear with me. It’s winter which makes an environmental allergen highly unlikely. What I am suggesting is that something in George’s world is causing an allergy that is manifesting as itchy skin. When we eat something that does not agree with us, we get an upset stomach. Dogs tend to get itchy instead. Unfortunately, many treats and foods have so many ingredients that are not part of a dog’s normal diet. The net result is that the skin barrier is not performing at top-notch which allows for them to have dry skin or even moist skin, both of which can cause itchiness. From looking at George, he is suffering more from a moist, yeasty skin. Now, let’s try this again. What do you feed him?”

  “I get a dry food from Nolte’s feed store. I got some new treats when I was in the city a month ago. Those are little meatballs. He loves them,” said Mrs. Shinkel.

  “That’s probably the culprit. I would lay off of the meatballs altogether. There are so many treats for dogs these days. Many of them taste great but are filled with additives that cause allergies. My advice is to use only treats with one ingredient. You can give him a dried apple, a sweet potato, a carrot, things like that. Dogs tend to not have issues with those. Stay away from treats that have colors or ingredient lists so long and so filled with words you can’t even pronounce. Does that make sense?” asked Mandy.

  “I suppose so. What about now? What can we do to make him feel better?” asked Mrs. Shinkel.

  “I’ll dispense a few different drugs to help him. One will be an allergy pill to stop the itching. Another will be an anti-yeast pill to get rid of the build up he has on his skin. Finally, I will give you a probiotic supplement to get his skin health back in balance. It will take some time to cleanse his body of those treats that did not agree with him so be patient. The allergy pill will take away the itching sensation while we wait for his body to get back in order. The other thing that would help him is to have a bath to rid him of some of the surface bacteria. I would use baby shampoo for that. Make sure that you let it soak on his skin for fifteen minutes to truly disinfect him,” said Gillian.

  “This sounds like a bunch of voodoo to me. We’ll have to try it since we have no other option,” said Mrs. Shinkel, begrudgingly.

  “I’ll bring the medicines up front for you,” said Mandy. While Mandy was counting pills in the pharmacy, Gillian came back to check on her.

  “She’s a real winner, eh?” asked Gillian.

  “Not so much. I know there are bound to be people in this town who are not thrilled that Anna is not alive and even less thrilled that I am. I just have to be patient,” said Mandy.

  “You are more patient than I would be,” said Gillian. “There was no need to treat us like that.”

  Mandy winked and brought the medicine up to Mrs. Shinkel. George was rubbing his back end on the edge of the front counter.

  “See, he is miserable,” said Mrs. Shinkel.

  “Hang in there. These will help. And get rid of any and all treats, except those that I told you about,” said Gillian. With that, she escorted Mrs. Shinkel and George out the front door.

  “We best be heading off to the O’Mally place. We’ll have to grab something to eat on the way since that pleasant woman took up our lunch hour,” said Gillian.

  “Fair enough. A sandwich will do me,” said Mandy.

  They secured Lyle and Anna in Mandy’s office so that they wouldn’t have to worry about coming back to puppy destruction.

  Chapter 8

  The Inn had an enticing aroma wafting from its interior. Their special was roast beef which Myrna managed to make into a to-go version for Mandy and Gillian. She placed some tender meat au jus on a toasted, crunchy roll and then wrapped it in a wax paper to keep it all intact in the car. She added some home-made carrot and parsnip fritters, completing a scrumptious meal.

  “Thanks so much, Myrna,” said Mandy. “This looks divine.”

  “No problem at all. We have to keep your energy level up. It’s only your first day back,” said Myrna.

  “And what a day it’s been so far,” said Gillian, nudging Mandy.

  “Not a good first day back?” asked Myrna.

  “We had a less than welcoming client this morning,” said Mandy.

  “Who?” asked Myrna.

  “Mrs. Shinkel,” said Gillian.

  “She is a tough cookie. Don’t worry, she doesn’t treat us like royalty either. She’s just one of those people who will never be satisfied. She seems to take great delight in spreading her perpetual bad mood,” said Myrna.

  “Well, at least it’s not just us then,” said Mandy. “I’m sure I’ll see you sometime this week for a meal. Thanks for the to-go bag.”

  “Be safe out there,” said Myrna.

  Gillian and Mandy savored every bite of their home-cooked meal. The flavor was perfect, which was no surprise considering that Myrna had made it. Enjoying every bite required their full attention, not just because the meal was delicious, but also because they were in danger of dropping pieces of meat or drops of au jus on themselves as they ate. As such, the ride to O’Mally’s was mostly silent with the exception of Gillian asking Mandy if she was holding up OK.

  “I seem to be doing alright. I wouldn’t want to run a marathon or anything, but I think I can meet a few people and be coherent,” said Mandy.

  “Good to hear. We are almost there. I stashed some cookies in the glove compartment so we could have a little sweet treat after our sandwich. Fancy one?” asked Gillian.

  Mandy retrieved them from the glove compartment and offered Gillian some, helping herself to two. Chocolate chip cookies made everything better, even if there was nothing particularly wrong in the first place.

  “Wouldn’t a cup of tea be nice around now?” asked Gillian.

  “Indeed it would. We will have to wait until we get back to the clinic,” said Mandy.

  They pulled into the O’Mally place, made obvious by the large overindulgent sign marking the front of the property. O’Mally clearly took himself very seriously. Not many places in this region had stone pillars, steel decorations, and landscaping to heighten their curbside appeal. The property must have encompassed hundreds, if not thousands, of acres. There was no fence but Mandy couldn’t see any neighbors as far as her eyes could see.

  “Tell me, how much land does O’Mally have?” asked Mandy as they drove up the longest driveway Mandy had ever seen.

  “I’m not even sure. I can say that he is a wealthy man. He buys up property as it becomes available. Someone with as much money as him may as well sink it in land. I think he has some oil rigs on one of the parcels of property. Some people just have all the luck,” said Gillian.

  “It does seem that in this world, if you have money, it’s easier to get more. Whereas if you are poor, it’s very easy to stay poor,” said Mandy.

  “Preach that. Here we are,” said Gillian. “I will be on my best behavior if you will.”

  “Deal,” said Mandy.

  As they got out of the truck, they took in their surroundings. There seemed to be buildings everywhere; it was like a mini village. The main building was a stone and log cabin, although cabin did not do the structure justice. It looked like a mansion out of a magazine. The other buildings continued the theme of pure opulence with a rustic flare. Whenever the builder had had a choice between a mediocre material or design and the best money could buy, they had clearly chosen the latter. Even the doors to the building
s were completely over the top. The landscaping matched, giving Mandy the impression that this O’Mally guy must indeed have a fortune and taste to make that much money worth having.

  “You must be Dr. Bell and Gillian. I’m Dobs, the butler,” said a man wearing a three-piece suit. “Allow me to show you around. The gentlemen are out scoping out the terrain. They should return shortly to have a late lunch. Have you eaten?”

  “We grabbed something on our way, thanks,” said Mandy, extending her hand. “I’m Dr. Bell. This is an amazing place. How many guests are there at this event?”

  “We have thirty dogs here with their corresponding handlers. It’s our biggest turnout yet,” said Dobs. “We have accommodation for all them here which makes for a busy week for our regular staff. We’ve brought in a few extra staff to make sure that it runs smoothly. The vet is one of them. He’s taking a walk with the handlers. You’ll meet him shortly. I’ll show you around while we wait for their return. This is the main hall. Meals and meetings occur here.”

  The outside of the large cabin-like building did the inside no justice. The finishings were what made it so opulent. It was rustic and yet dignified, with accents of metal, stone, and wood. Pictures of German short-haired pointers elegantly framed were tastefully placed around the hall. An over-sized set of stone stairs led up to a loft that overlooked the lower portions of the property through a floor to ceiling picture window. Mandy could see this as a place where men could sit around, smoking cigars, discussing the merits of their dogs. It was a man’s wonderland.

  “This is gorgeous,” said Mandy. “O’Mally is a lucky man.”

  “I haven’t ever seen the inside of this building. Last year, I didn’t even come out with Anna. What a place,” said Gillian.

  “It’s rather expansive. I can’t show you the guest cabins as they are all occupied. Perhaps when O’Mally returns, he can show you through the private quarters. For now, I can show you around the outside of everything so you can get a feel for where things are should you need anything,” said Dobs.