(Leo's POV)

"Bring him back in about ten days and I'll have a look at him again. If it hasn't cleared up by then, we're going to have to consider operating," I explain to the woman while placing her cat back into his basket. I carry the basket out to the reception and hand her the prescribed tablets.

"Thank you very much," she says to me, sincerity clear in her voice.

"It's no problem at all," I tell her before making my way back into the surgery room and wiping down the examination table with some disinfectant.

It's twenty-five past five and I have to say, I'm beyond wrecked. Just thirty-five more minutes before I can finally call it a day, and with only one patient left to see, it looks like I just might be able to get off that bit earlier.

I smile at the thought. It's been a long day.

Not that I don't love my job, I do. I couldn't ask for a better, more rewarding job. Yes, I've had a nasty bite along the way from an angry dog or a bad scratch from a grumpy cat, but I wouldn't change my job as a vet for anything else.

Fifteen minutes later, after establishing that Mr. Walker's pug is indeed pregnant, I tidy up my surgery. There are no operations booked for this weekend. I'm very much looking forward to a Saturday night off. I make my way into the reception to see Sarah, my receptionist and friend from college, holding the door open for Mr. Walker as he carries a snapping pug out to his car.

"What a day," Sarah says with a sigh as she shuts the door.

"You can say that again," I chuckle, picking up an unopened letter and tearing it open. "I thought it would never end."

She looks over at me from the opposite side of the counter. "Me too. I left those letters there yesterday but I never got around to opening them. It's just been hectic the past few days."

"Yeah, I know," I say, scanning through the invoice in my head.

I look up to see Sarah yawning. She's been working extremely hard the last few days, it's no wonder she's wrecked.

"Listen, I'll lock up, Sarah. You go home and enjoy a well-deserved weekend. I'll see you on Monday."

"Are you sure? I don't mind locking up."

"I'm positive. Now, go. Before I have to kick you out," I tease, handing her, her bag and coat before she comes up with an excuse to stay the last twenty minutes.

"Thanks, Leo," she says with a laugh. "See you Monday."

"See ya, Monday."

I grab make my way into the kitchenette inside the storage room and make myself a cup of coffee.

I've twenty minutes left before I can close up so I might as well make a start on the orders for next week. We're running low on worming tablets, dog food, bedding and cat litter. No doubt by the end of Monday there'll be more things I have to order though.

I log onto the computer and open my emails before I start the order. Like always, there's a ridiculous amount of junk emails in but there are also some important ones that I flag to read again on Monday.

Just as I open up Excel, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pull it out and check the caller I.D. Brian.

"I thought you were gone camping," I say into the phone. "Don't tell me you chickened out already. It's not even dark out yet."

"Leo," Brian says. He sounds worried, his voice slightly shaky. He instantly has my full attention.

"Brian, what's wrong?"

"I need your help. I found a dog in the forest. She's unconscious and there's blood everywhere! She's not breathing much either, man."

"Okay. Where abouts are you?" I ask, searching for my car keys.

"Um, I'm driving up your driveway," he admits.

I turn at the sound of a vehicle coming up the driveway. I hang up the phone and rush out to the front of the clinic to help Brian bring the dog in. He stops the truck right outside the door and hops out.

"She's in a bad way, Leo," he tells me.

"Ok, well let's just get her out of the car and we'll see what I can do." He nods his head and opens up the back of his truck.

My best friend stands by to let me see the dog. I take in her condition; her shoulder seems to be dislocated, her stomach punctured and her back leg appears to be torn. Blood covers her once gleaming coat and her long hairs are matted together. What worries me most is the blood seeping through the towel Brian has placed around her neck. She doesn't have much time left.

I look closer at the injured animal, something about her doesn't seem quite right. At first glance, one would think she was a husky, but upon taking another look, it seems that that is not the case. Her snout is slightly longer and narrower than that of a dog's, her hair also seems to be longer and her unusual markings suggest that she is anything but the playful pet you'd find in someone's back garden. In fact, you'd be more likely to find her in the wild, or even in the zoo.

I step back and look at Brian. "Brian, that's not a dog. It's a wolf."

"A wolf? What are you talking about?" He looks at the wolf and back at me again. "It's a dog; a husky."

"No, Bri. It's a wolf."

"Well, what does it matter what she is? We need to get her inside so you can fix her," he says, moving towards the truck to lift her out.

"I can't treat her," I tell him.

"Why the hell not?"

"Because, she's a dangerous animal. I don't have a license to treat her. The only thing I'm allowed do to her is give her a bullet through the head."

I feel a pang in my heart at the thoughts of killing her. I hate having to put animals down; it's the only bad part of the job, particularly when it's a dog. She's a wolf, Leo. Not a dog, I remind myself.

"She needs to go to Animal Control. I could lose my job if I treat her."

"Leo, since when have you cared what kind of animal you treat?" Brian asks, sounding shocked. "It's never stopped you before! She needs help. She needs your help. Without it, she'll bleed to death in my truck. You know damn well that if we bring her to Animal Control they'll kill her. And they won't just stop at her. They'll search for more of these 'dangerous animals' and kill them all, or if they're lucky send them to live in a zoo for the rest of their lives."

I contemplate it for a minute, looking at the helpless creature in the back of Brian's truck. Her chest rises and falls very slowly as she struggles to breathe, each breath taking her closer and closer to her death.

"Fine," I cave. "Help me lift her inside. I'm afraid your camping trip is cancelled, buddy, because I don't have an assistant here so we're going to have to improvise."

"No problem, boss. You just tell me what you need me to do."

Carefully, we lift the broken wolf into the surgery and place her down gently on the operating table. I grab an apron and a pair of gloves and throw them to Brian to wear. I grab another set for myself before setting up the necessary equipment.

"Are you sure you're ok with this?" I ask Brian. "Once we start I won't be able to stop because if I do, she'll die."

"I'm positive," he says, smiling. "I always wanted to see what it was like to be a vet."

"Ok then, hand me that scalpel."

Two and a half hours later we lift the newly sewn and thoroughly bandaged wolf into a freshly made dog bed in a pen in the back of the clinic. I attach her drip to a hook in the on the side of the cage and make sure that she can't get tangled up in the tube when she wakes up. Before leaving I also put a muzzle on her, she'll be extremely violent when she wakes up so I need to be prepared.

"How long will it be before she wakes?" Brian asks.

"A couple of hours. She'll be a bit groggy and confused for about two hours. After then we'll have a better idea of how she's doing," I explain. "We'll also know how dangerous she really is. She could lash out at us in fear so we'll have to be extremely careful around her, even though she probably won't be able to move around much for about two days. Her shoulder is in a bad way so she'll need to give it time before she can put any weight onto it."

"What do we do until she wakes up?"

"We just wait."

"Great, cause I'm starving. Let's go make some food," Brian says. 

As we make our way out of the room, I take one last look at her sleeping form and sigh. I hope she pulls through after all the hard work we put into saving her.

I feel a sharp pain in my chest after I close the door and begin to make my way towards the house. I ignore it and chuckle at Brian's impatience for food. I swear, sometimes he's just like a child.

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