The story so far...after Ben's mom hits a cat in the road; they take the injured cat to the vet clinic. Dr. Hammond says the injuries are serious. She offers 3 choices - exploratory surgery to try to save the cat, overnight observation, or euthanasia (put the cat to sleep).
Written by Frances Milburn
Illustrated by Liv Aanrud
I looked at the vet in shock. The cat still was lying on the exam table, not moving. "Put it to sleep? Does that mean you kill it?"
Dr. Hammond looked at me with sadness in her eyes. "Sometimes, that is the kindest thing to do. Just let her go to sleep forever." She turned back to Mom. "But the decision is yours, of course. Again, your three choices are surgery, observation, or euthanize."
Mom rubbed her eyes and didn't say anything. I held my breath. I wanted to shout out, "Don't waste time! Let's just get the cat fixed up quickly." But I knew better. So I just stood there waiting.
Finally, she broke the silence. "The cost of each option?" she asked quietly.
The doctor flung her braid back behind her shoulder and cleared her throat. "Euthanizing is about $40. Overnight care with fluids may run from $80 to $100, and she might die before morning. Surgery could be anywhere from $300 to $1000, depending on what I find, and what we decide to do. And again, there's no guarantee the cat will make it."
She looked down and pressed the stethoscope against the cat's breast. "But you need to decide quickly. We don't have much time if we're going to do the surgery."
I looked pleadingly at Mom, tears filling my eyes. She looked from me to the cat. It had not moved a muscle since the vet laid it down. The seconds passed, seeming like hours. She sighed loudly but didn't say anything.
Finally, I just couldn't stand it a minute longer and blurted out. "Cut her open. Do what you can." Looking up at Mom I added, "I'll help pay. I'll get a paper route or something. We just can't let that cat die without giving it a chance."
Dr. Hammond continued feeling the cat's midsection. She was probably used to parents and kids fighting over what should be done and didn't want to interfere.
Mom nodded her head reluctantly. "Ok, we'll go for the surgery." She put her arm around me, and I hugged her.
"You're the greatest, Mom."
"Ok, I'll get started right away," Dr. Hammond said firmly, already gathering her surgical tools. "We'll call you as soon as I know anything."
Mom and I walked out, now united. We got into the car without a word and started back toward our house. Finally I broke the silence, "Did you hear the doctor say 'she'? The cat's a girl! I kept thinking it was a boy. I don't know why. But it doesn't matter to me either way."
I looked out the window but couldn't get my mind off the cat. "How long till we hear from Dr. Hammond?"
"I don't know."
She stopped the car as we turned into the driveway and put her hand on my shoulder. "Benny, listen. You understand that the chances of surviving are not great. The cat may very easily die."
"But at least we can say we tried." I smiled at her. "Anyway, I have a good feeling about this. I think our tough cat will pull through."
"Don't get your hopes up too high. And it's not OUR cat."
I got out of the car and headed for the house. It was almost three, and I wanted to call Nate, still hoping that he could come over. I couldn't wait to tell him all about the cat.
"Hey, come back and help me get the dresser in the house!" Mom called out to me. I returned to the car, and we lifted out the dresser and carried it into the guest room in the lower level. Mom's cell phone rang just as we set it down.
"Hi Kris," Mom said into the phone. "Do I have the story for you!" It was my aunt, and I knew they could gab for hours.
"Don't forget the vet's going to call. So don't stay on the phone. We don't want to miss her." I started for my bedroom and then turned, "Mom, did you hear me?"
Nodding her head, she waved me away and headed toward the TV room. She was talking a mile a minute. Just then, a car drove up. Conner jumped out and hurried into the house.
"Hey bro," he said, giving my arm a friendly fist. "I'm starved." He headed for the kitchen. I followed him
"Guess what happened to us this afternoon?" While he made three peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, I told him the whole story about the cat. He was just swallowing the last bite when I finished.
"So, we decided to get the surgery and are just waiting to hear back from the vet. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the cat is ok."
My brother went to the refrigerator for milk and filled a glass to the very top. "I bet that surgery will be expensive." Conner downed the entire glass. "Speaking of money, you still owe me the ten bucks that Mom was going to give me for lunch, the money you lost."
I'd totally forgotten about the $100 bill I still had stashed in my pocket! I put my hand on my jeans and felt the bill through my pocket. "Oh yeah. Let me run and get you the money." I took off for my room, closing the door behind me.
In the back of my closet, I found the little box where I store my spare cash. I was saving for a new soccer ball. Opening the box, I found a couple tens and some ones. Exchanging the hundred for a ten, I ran back and handed the bill to Conner. He pocketed the money without a word and headed for the TV.
Just then, the house phone rang. Glancing at the clock, I saw that it was four. Dr. Hammond must've finished the surgery and was calling to tell us the results.
- Frances Milburn, a resident of Watertown, has been a teacher in middle and elementary school for 26 years. Amherst Junction native Liv Aanrud now lives in Los Angeles.
Written by Frances Milburn
Illustrated by Liv Aanrud
I looked at the vet in shock. The cat still was lying on the exam table, not moving. "Put it to sleep? Does that mean you kill it?"
Dr. Hammond looked at me with sadness in her eyes. "Sometimes, that is the kindest thing to do. Just let her go to sleep forever." She turned back to Mom. "But the decision is yours, of course. Again, your three choices are surgery, observation, or euthanize."
Mom rubbed her eyes and didn't say anything. I held my breath. I wanted to shout out, "Don't waste time! Let's just get the cat fixed up quickly." But I knew better. So I just stood there waiting.
Finally, she broke the silence. "The cost of each option?" she asked quietly.
The doctor flung her braid back behind her shoulder and cleared her throat. "Euthanizing is about $40. Overnight care with fluids may run from $80 to $100, and she might die before morning. Surgery could be anywhere from $300 to $1000, depending on what I find, and what we decide to do. And again, there's no guarantee the cat will make it."
She looked down and pressed the stethoscope against the cat's breast. "But you need to decide quickly. We don't have much time if we're going to do the surgery."
I looked pleadingly at Mom, tears filling my eyes. She looked from me to the cat. It had not moved a muscle since the vet laid it down. The seconds passed, seeming like hours. She sighed loudly but didn't say anything.
Finally, I just couldn't stand it a minute longer and blurted out. "Cut her open. Do what you can." Looking up at Mom I added, "I'll help pay. I'll get a paper route or something. We just can't let that cat die without giving it a chance."
Dr. Hammond continued feeling the cat's midsection. She was probably used to parents and kids fighting over what should be done and didn't want to interfere.
Mom nodded her head reluctantly. "Ok, we'll go for the surgery." She put her arm around me, and I hugged her.
"You're the greatest, Mom."
"Ok, I'll get started right away," Dr. Hammond said firmly, already gathering her surgical tools. "We'll call you as soon as I know anything."
Mom and I walked out, now united. We got into the car without a word and started back toward our house. Finally I broke the silence, "Did you hear the doctor say 'she'? The cat's a girl! I kept thinking it was a boy. I don't know why. But it doesn't matter to me either way."
I looked out the window but couldn't get my mind off the cat. "How long till we hear from Dr. Hammond?"
"I don't know."
She stopped the car as we turned into the driveway and put her hand on my shoulder. "Benny, listen. You understand that the chances of surviving are not great. The cat may very easily die."
"But at least we can say we tried." I smiled at her. "Anyway, I have a good feeling about this. I think our tough cat will pull through."
"Don't get your hopes up too high. And it's not OUR cat."
I got out of the car and headed for the house. It was almost three, and I wanted to call Nate, still hoping that he could come over. I couldn't wait to tell him all about the cat.
"Hey, come back and help me get the dresser in the house!" Mom called out to me. I returned to the car, and we lifted out the dresser and carried it into the guest room in the lower level. Mom's cell phone rang just as we set it down.
"Hi Kris," Mom said into the phone. "Do I have the story for you!" It was my aunt, and I knew they could gab for hours.
"Don't forget the vet's going to call. So don't stay on the phone. We don't want to miss her." I started for my bedroom and then turned, "Mom, did you hear me?"
Nodding her head, she waved me away and headed toward the TV room. She was talking a mile a minute. Just then, a car drove up. Conner jumped out and hurried into the house.
"Hey bro," he said, giving my arm a friendly fist. "I'm starved." He headed for the kitchen. I followed him
"Guess what happened to us this afternoon?" While he made three peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, I told him the whole story about the cat. He was just swallowing the last bite when I finished.
"So, we decided to get the surgery and are just waiting to hear back from the vet. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the cat is ok."
My brother went to the refrigerator for milk and filled a glass to the very top. "I bet that surgery will be expensive." Conner downed the entire glass. "Speaking of money, you still owe me the ten bucks that Mom was going to give me for lunch, the money you lost."
I'd totally forgotten about the $100 bill I still had stashed in my pocket! I put my hand on my jeans and felt the bill through my pocket. "Oh yeah. Let me run and get you the money." I took off for my room, closing the door behind me.
In the back of my closet, I found the little box where I store my spare cash. I was saving for a new soccer ball. Opening the box, I found a couple tens and some ones. Exchanging the hundred for a ten, I ran back and handed the bill to Conner. He pocketed the money without a word and headed for the TV.
Just then, the house phone rang. Glancing at the clock, I saw that it was four. Dr. Hammond must've finished the surgery and was calling to tell us the results.
- Frances Milburn, a resident of Watertown, has been a teacher in middle and elementary school for 26 years. Amherst Junction native Liv Aanrud now lives in Los Angeles.