Violet opened the door, her face lined with worry. ‘Thank you so much for coming, Melinda.’
‘That’s what I’m here for. I have an assistant with me,’ she said with a smile. ‘I believe you know him.’
Despite her obvious worry, Violet smiled at him. ‘Dr Lovak, how nice to see you.’
‘And you, Mrs Kennedy.’
The parrot, which was usually strutting on its perch, showing off its glorious black and crimson tail feathers or throwing a toy around, and which greeted all visitors with a piercing whistle and ‘’Ow do, m’dear?’ before shocking them with a barrage of ripe language, was hunched in the corner of the cage, absolutely silent. Dragan cast a worried look at Melinda. If the bird died, he really wasn’t sure that Violet Kennedy would be able to cope. Since her husband’s death, she’d lavished most of her love on the parrot; her children and grandchildren lived in London, so she didn’t see anywhere near as much of them as she’d like.
‘Oh, Cassidy, tesoro, what have you done to yourself?’ Melinda crooned, and rubbed his poll. She gently lifted him out of the cage and felt his feet. ‘Violet, do you have a hotwater bottle, please? I need to keep him warm and that’s the best thing. I need some hot water, too, please. And two small cups, a bowl and a spoon, if I may?’
Violet looked grim. ‘I’ll put the kettle on. So do you think it’s bird flu?’
‘No, I don’t,’ Melinda reassured her. ‘There haven’t been any reports of dead wild birds in the area, there are no problems at the local poultry farms, and to be honest he’s an indoor bird, not kept outside in an aviary—so even if there were problems outside he’d be at very, very low risk.’
‘So what’s wrong?’ Dragan asked, keeping his voice low.
‘His feet are cold. That’s not good. I’ll need to start treatment for the dehydration now, but Jake said if his feet are cold I’ll be better off looking after him at the surgery in a heated cage.’ She bit her lip. ‘Violet really isn’t going to like this.’
‘She’ll understand if it’s best for Cassidy.’
Violet returned with a hot-water bottle. ‘Where do you want the other things?’
‘In the kitchen, please. I need to mix up some powders—they’ll help replace the salt and sugar in his blood and make him feel better.’ She paused. ‘Has Cassidy eaten anything other than his normal diet? Could he have, I don’t know, taken something from your plate while you answered the phone or something?’
‘I don’t think so.’ Violet looked thoughtful. ‘The grandchildren were visiting until yesterday and they had one Easter egg I’d given them.’
‘And they fed some chocolate to the bird as a treat?’
Violet shook her head. ‘I don’t think they would. And they know I keep chocolate in the drawer, but…no, they wouldn’t have done that.’
‘Can Cassidy open drawers with his beak?’ Melinda asked.
Violet was silent for a moment, her brow crumpled. ‘He’s a clever old bird. Maybe.’ She pulled open one of the dresser drawers. ‘Oh! The children wouldn’t have ripped open a packet of chocolate buttons and left them like that. They’re little monkeys but they’re not bad kids.’ She shook her head. ‘Well, I never. He must have opened the packet, eaten some, and closed the drawer again.’
‘As you say, he’s a clever bird,’ Melinda said. ‘And chocolate buttons could well be what’s making him feel so ill now. One thing my colleague told me, parrots can’t eat avocados or chocolate. They’re both poisonous for parrots.’
‘Poisonous?’
She nodded. ‘It doesn’t take much—only fifty grams of chocolate, just one small packet of buttons, could be fatal. So I’d keep them locked away in future, if I were you, or in an airtight container you know for sure he can’t open.’
Violet went pale. ‘Is he going to die?’
‘Not if I can help it. Because I promised to teach him Italian—did I not, tesoro?’ She rubbed the bird’s poll again. ‘Come on. Let’s get you feeling better.’ She smiled at Dragan. ‘I wasn’t joking about you being my assistant, by the way.’
He spread his hands. ‘Just tell me what to do.’
‘OK. We’re going to make up some powders for Cassidy, and I’m going to feed him through a crop needle and a syringe so I can make sure he gets enough.’
‘A bit like when babies are too sick to eat and they need feeding by a tube,’ Dragan added, seeing the worry on Violet’s face. ‘It’s a very common procedure and it doesn’t hurt.’
‘Essatamente,’ Melinda said. ‘And just to make sure—do you have any olive oil, Violet?’
‘I’ve got sunflower oil,’ Violet said.
‘That will do nicely. I need to put it on the needle—he’s dehydrated and his throat will be dry, so the oil will lubricate the needle and make sure it doesn’t hurt him.’ She nodded to the bowls on the table. ‘Dragan, can you put the hot water in the bowl for me? And, Violet, I need you to cuddle Cassidy with the hot-water bottle. Bene, just like that.’
Dragan noticed how she involved Violet and talked her through the treatment without being patronising. She would’ve made a fabulous doctor for human patients too, he thought.
She was gentle with the bird, but even so when she’d finished the old lady was clearly only just holding back tears. ‘My Cassidy. What will I do without you?’ she whispered.
‘I want to take him back to the surgery with me,’ Melinda said gently. ‘It will take him a few days to get over this. He needs to be in a heated cage so he doesn’t get cold, and we’ll need to feed him this mixture twice a day until he’s able to eat normal food again. And then I’ll bring him home safely to you, I promise.’
‘Cassidy’s been with me for years,’ Violet said. ‘My husband got him for me when he was in the navy. I…I can’t imagine not having him.’
‘I’ll bring him home to you as soon as I can,’ Melinda reassured her, ‘and you can visit any time you like.’ She rubbed the bird’s poll. ‘We’ll have you back with your mamma soon. And while you’re at the surgery I can teach you some words of love in Italian—then you can charm people instead of swearing like a sailor and making your mamma turn red every time the vicar calls round, yes?’
The bird—which Dragan knew from experience would usually tell her where to go in extremely colourful language—made no response.
And he could see just how worried Violet looked. He squeezed her hand. ‘Try not to worry. Melinda knows what she’s doing.’
‘I know you’ll do your best,’ Violet said, her voice slightly shaky.
‘Normally I’d suggest transporting him in a cage,’ Melinda said, ‘but as he’s so ill and so cold, he’s not going to move around much. He can sit and have a cuddle on my lap on the way to the surgery, if you don’t mind lending me that hotwater bottle until tomorrow. And Dragan will drive us very, very carefully. I’ll call you when we’re back at the surgery so you won’t have to worry. And I’ll call you tomorrow morning to let you know how he’s doing.’
Exactly the same kind of care and reassurance that he gave his own patients, Dragan thought. And he could’ve hugged her for it. Just as Lizzie had said the previous day, Melinda was a gem. She recognised that the family had needs as well as the patient.
He drove them back to the surgery, and followed Melinda inside. She sorted out a heated cage and made the parrot comfortable, then called Jake for a quick confab about