Read Online World without Cats by Bonham Richards - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Bonham Richards
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events. What the hell is this? An epidemic? The symptoms point to a rapidly developing viral disease—maybe panleukopenia is involved. But the speed with which the disease passed from animal to animal didn’t jibe with any sickness she could think of.
Vera spent the rest of the afternoon performing necropsies on the three cats. The dead felines were quite emaciated and had enlarged spleens and lymph nodes. She noticed extensive internal bleeding, which she found both puzzling and alarming. Her pulse raced, and her hands started to shake. She closed her eyes, leaned back in the chair, and forced herself to relax. When she examined the blood of the deceased cats under the microscope, she saw that all three showed very high white-blood-cell counts. Panleukopenia would have shown low counts. Her preliminary diagnosis had to be wrong. She wondered if it might be a new disease with which she was unfamiliar. Kal Forstner was a recent graduate of vet school; Vera considered that he might have encountered this new affliction in one of his courses.
“Kal, would you come in here a minute, please?”
“What’s up?” Kal said as he entered the lab.
Vera described the disease affecting the cats. “Does this sound like anything you studied at Davis?”
He put his fingertips to his forehead and closed his eyes. After a minute, he said, “No, I can’t think of any infectious disease that spreads so fast.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.” She tried to dispel a growing feeling of unease. Calm down, Vera, she told herself. This is probably some obvious sickness you haven’t thought of.
She called Noah at the institute. “Noah, it’s Vera. I’ve got a problem.” She told him of Dorothy’s sick cats. “Is there someone at the institute who could do some diagnostic bacteriology on these cats? I’m not set up for that, and it’s kind of urgent. My regular lab service would take too long.”
“Sounds serious,” Noah replied. “We don’t do much of that here—wait a minute! They teach a course in medical microbiology in the biology department. I’ll call Dr. Morton, the guy who teaches the course, and get back to you.”
Vera thanked him and went back to her feline corpses. She went over to the bookshelf she called her reference library and pulled down a few books on infectious disease. After an hour, she still hadn’t found any mention of an illness such as she’d seen at Dottie’s.
On Saturday, Vera drove up to the campus with three small, chilled vials of clotted blood from the three dead cats. Arriving at the lab of Dr. P. Merrill Morton, Vera encountered a balding, ruddy man wearing a starched lab coat. He looked up from the microscope and greeted her with a concerned smile. “I understand you have some sort of epidemic on your hands.” He took the samples and told her that it would take several days to isolate and identify any bacteria. “One suggestion, Dr. Barnett; you might call that woman—what’s her name, Mrs. Knowland—and tell her to keep all her cats locked up in the house.”
“You think it might be serious enough that a quarantine is called for?”
“I don’t know. I just suggest we err on the side of safety.”
Vera took a deep breath. “I have to admit, I’ve never seen such an aggressive set of symptoms in any animal.”
As soon as Vera got back to the clinic, she telephoned Dorothy.
“But Vera,” Dorothy protested, “even if I close all the windows and doors, there are ways the cats can get out of the house. There’s an opening into the wall behind the kitchen stove.”
Vera sighed inaudibly. “Well, do the best you can, hon. See if you can find a way to close up those holes.”
That night, Vera and Noah took in a 3D movie, but Vera had trouble following the plot. Her mind kept wandering back to Dorothy’s cats. Later, at Noah’s, she settled down on the sofa while Noah fiddled with the stereo. Bastette jumped onto her lap and, in response to her caresses,
Vera spent the rest of the afternoon performing necropsies on the three cats. The dead felines were quite emaciated and had enlarged spleens and lymph nodes. She noticed extensive internal bleeding, which she found both puzzling and alarming. Her pulse raced, and her hands started to shake. She closed her eyes, leaned back in the chair, and forced herself to relax. When she examined the blood of the deceased cats under the microscope, she saw that all three showed very high white-blood-cell counts. Panleukopenia would have shown low counts. Her preliminary diagnosis had to be wrong. She wondered if it might be a new disease with which she was unfamiliar. Kal Forstner was a recent graduate of vet school; Vera considered that he might have encountered this new affliction in one of his courses.
“Kal, would you come in here a minute, please?”
“What’s up?” Kal said as he entered the lab.
Vera described the disease affecting the cats. “Does this sound like anything you studied at Davis?”
He put his fingertips to his forehead and closed his eyes. After a minute, he said, “No, I can’t think of any infectious disease that spreads so fast.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.” She tried to dispel a growing feeling of unease. Calm down, Vera, she told herself. This is probably some obvious sickness you haven’t thought of.
She called Noah at the institute. “Noah, it’s Vera. I’ve got a problem.” She told him of Dorothy’s sick cats. “Is there someone at the institute who could do some diagnostic bacteriology on these cats? I’m not set up for that, and it’s kind of urgent. My regular lab service would take too long.”
“Sounds serious,” Noah replied. “We don’t do much of that here—wait a minute! They teach a course in medical microbiology in the biology department. I’ll call Dr. Morton, the guy who teaches the course, and get back to you.”
Vera thanked him and went back to her feline corpses. She went over to the bookshelf she called her reference library and pulled down a few books on infectious disease. After an hour, she still hadn’t found any mention of an illness such as she’d seen at Dottie’s.
On Saturday, Vera drove up to the campus with three small, chilled vials of clotted blood from the three dead cats. Arriving at the lab of Dr. P. Merrill Morton, Vera encountered a balding, ruddy man wearing a starched lab coat. He looked up from the microscope and greeted her with a concerned smile. “I understand you have some sort of epidemic on your hands.” He took the samples and told her that it would take several days to isolate and identify any bacteria. “One suggestion, Dr. Barnett; you might call that woman—what’s her name, Mrs. Knowland—and tell her to keep all her cats locked up in the house.”
“You think it might be serious enough that a quarantine is called for?”
“I don’t know. I just suggest we err on the side of safety.”
Vera took a deep breath. “I have to admit, I’ve never seen such an aggressive set of symptoms in any animal.”
As soon as Vera got back to the clinic, she telephoned Dorothy.
“But Vera,” Dorothy protested, “even if I close all the windows and doors, there are ways the cats can get out of the house. There’s an opening into the wall behind the kitchen stove.”
Vera sighed inaudibly. “Well, do the best you can, hon. See if you can find a way to close up those holes.”
That night, Vera and Noah took in a 3D movie, but Vera had trouble following the plot. Her mind kept wandering back to Dorothy’s cats. Later, at Noah’s, she settled down on the sofa while Noah fiddled with the stereo. Bastette jumped onto her lap and, in response to her caresses,
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