“Get that dog out of here!” the surgeon growled.
“Animal control,” the nurse whispered.
“There is no time,” someone replied.
Security personnel showed up, stiff and ready. It was no longer a treatment – it was an impasse.
“If he bites, we’ll shoot him,” the guard muttered.
The dog's gaze wandered towards the gun. Calm. Overwhelmed. Caring. Scary.
Then she took a step forward.
AVA. Blond hair combed backwards, simple doctor's uniform, about thirty. New enough to move carefully, unnoticed by everyone. Still, she kept going.
Slowly. Prudently. Low above the ground. She knelt past the stretcher, her gaze at the height of the dog's arm. No stretching out your hands, without checking – just whispering. Six words, quiet, precise.
The dog froze. The growl is quiet. His body relaxed and he took an obedient attitude. He sat down, gently leaning his head against the chest of a SEAL soldier.
There was silence in the trauma room. The gun was abandoned. The nurses looked ahead. The surgeon blinked. “You can work,” Ava said. “He’ll let you.”
No one protested.
The blood was sipping on the sheets. The monitors are crazy.
“The clamp. Suction. The movement.”
The dog stayed close, observing each hand without any threat. The surgeon glanced at Ava as he seized.
“What did you say to this dog?”
"They don't teach something like that in college," she replied.
The rhythm of SEAL has ceased. The defibrillator's on. A shock was given. Another shock. It's stabilized. The dog twitched slightly, but remained still. "The left side - internal bleeding," Ava said. “You don’t understand.”
The surgeon turned around. “As you have...” “Check it out,” she interrupted.
They did it. She was right.
They stabilized him, albeit with difficulty, and quickly transported him to the post-operative room. The dog followed him like a shadow.
A moment later, a doctor approached her.
“You don’t look like an animal care specialist and you don’t sound like a beginner nurse.”
“I’m a nurse,” Ava said. “That’s enough.”
That's when the building shook. They slammed the rotor blades. The helicopter landed with difficulty. Security ran up to us, pale in appearance.
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