Chocolate Cake for Breakfast
“Keri was on holiday already, somewhere up a mountain in the Southern Alps. Nick was at, of all things, a veterinary business management seminar in Hamilton, and Zoe went home at lunchtime with a headache. The rest of us spent the day running around in small circles, and at three, just as it looked like things were easing off, a woman brought in a comatose cat with a blocked bladder. It was the best day I’d had for weeks; I was far too busy to think about myself.
At twenty past five I vaccinated the last of a litter of seven puppies and poked the last worm pill down the last small throat. I shut down the computer in the consult room and went slowly out the front to find Thomas writing up tomorrow’s day sheet.
‘You’ve got to go to Peter Drummond’s,’ he said. ‘He’s got a horse that’s just gone through a fence and shredded its leg.’ I forgot all about the benefits of being too busy to think and stared at him in horror. ‘You’re kidding.’ ‘Yes,’ he admitted.
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