The mournful sound of a distant train whistle, the howl of a pup, the smell of spring and a dust cloud from a passing vehicle encroached upon Jenna’s wayward thoughts which kept straying to the sight she’d witnessed upon her arrival that morning and the subsequent call to 911.

During a lively debate just last week, the Mortimers had laughingly pointed out Jenna was destined to become a vet since she’d always brought home every stray that crossed her path. They were constantly amused intrigued and yes bombarded by each adventure since they never knew which animal it would entail, wondering whether it would include a pup, a cat, a raccoon, garter snake, worm…they just never knew, but it certainly kept life interesting. So it certainly hadn’t surprised them when she’d decided to become a vet.

Jenna Mortimer was indeed passionate about her job…and her parents were right, in hindsight it was all she’d ever wanted to do. She’d practically breezed through her courses since she tackled them with fervor, devouring every tidbit of information while hungrily looking for more.

And now, here she was, interning for Dr. Greg, a man she’d admired while growing up, especially since he’d openly welcomed her into his clinic encouraging her interest and love of animals while teaching her how to comfort them while administering medicine.

It wasn’t all fun and games. Sometimes no amount of effort would save an injured animal. Then, of course, age played its part and on such occasions, she would hold or touch the animal in question with affection leaning down to whisper something to it and afterward, quietly shed a tear. He’d never witnessed such love compassion and affection followed by an inane ability to let go afterward…not something easily done. And although vets hid this aspect from the client, it was still true. After all, they became vets to save and enhance the lives of injured or hurting animals, offering hope when possible….and it hurt when their efforts met with failure, well perhaps that was too strong a word, but the end result sometimes felt the same.

Dr. Greg firmly intended to see his practice went to Jenna. He had no relatives to speak of, all were far older than he and had never been interested in his work. Logically, it made sense. She was a fine vet and she deserved a helping hand considering how fervent her affection and care for the animals were. That and she lifted a hell of a load from his shoulders since with the advent of age, he wasn’t capable of doing all he once had. He smiled at the thought. The lawyer had already drawn up the papers. It would probably come as a shock and a surprise, but he hoped, in a good way.

The mournful sound of a distant train whistle, the howl of a pup, the smell of spring and a dust cloud from a passing vehicle encroached upon Jenna’s wayward thoughts which kept straying to the sight she’d witnessed upon her arrival that morning and the subsequent call to 911.

The detective, Gary Manor, asked if she was up to looking around in order to determine what if anything was missing. The place was an ungodly mess and the second she entered the building, her eyes darted to the spot where she’d found Dr. Greg. A cursory glance indicated there were missing bandages syringes and a modicum of drugs used during surgeries, (they didn’t keep much on hand) because Dr. Greg knew it was an enticement for thieves. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she shook her head raging at the loss of a gifted beautiful dedicated vet and friend and for what – the price of a handful of ill gotten gain? It made no sense!

Her eyes mirrored pain, shock and horror and Detective Manor wanted to reach out and wrap his arms around her as palpable grief rolled off her body. Sad, sad and tragic. Startled by his own responses he sighed. Time to get on with the job at hand.

“You should go home, Dr. Mortimer. Can’t let you back in until we’ve finished with the crime scene.”

“Hhhow long? I have animals that require medicine and food.”

“I can’t say. I’m sorry. It takes time, sometimes longer than others. Each situation is different. I want a slam dunk on the culprit responsible for this heinous crime and I want every damn piece of evidence I can find so this miscreant can’t possibly squirm out from under this!” His words held a hint of anger as though personally affronted by the attack on Dr. Greg. And maybe he was, she thought. Especially if he was as dedicated as he seemed.

2 thoughts on “Tears of Rage

  1. I barely got onto your site, but finally, it stopped loaded and LOADED. Nice story. I wouldn’t mind a follow up. Anything about animals works for me!

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