Late Arrivals [Sam/Lucas]

[Tiggs]

They were late. The golden dingo Ammi whined under her breath, staggering towards the hut. Her insides were a tight knot, her sides swollen impossibly wide for such a lithe canine. Every ripple of a contraction tore through her, but there was that dreaded feeling growing with every one. Dragging herself over the open lawn, she reached the porch with a final effort, laying uncomfortably on the steps.

“Help.” Her voice was a whisper. “Help.” She panted, closing her eyes through another fruitless contraction. “Lucas.” Her little yip was still feeble. Could he hear her through the wooden door? “Lucas.”

Coming here had been a struggle, not only physically. The sight of the hut made her skin crawl, and she knew the men would shoot her if they saw her. But she could think of no other place to go. Lucas was her only hope. He would help her. He always helped her. She yapped again, louder this time. “Lucas!” She was desperate. She needed to see him. He would help her. She needed him. He would help.

[tingara]

Instinct had told him she was coming and all day the Tamaskan dog had paced and whined nervously at the Hut’s main door. For the most part his owner had ignored it in favour for flirting with a certain female resident but the man had still noted the behaviour odd, even for Lucas. Eventually Sam relented and let the dog out only to see what had caused the fretting. A heavily pregnant female dingo and from the way Lucas was acting with her Sam could wager a guess as to who she was pregnant by.

”Bloody dog,” the man sighed softly, shaking his head. At first he was apprehensive about approaching the dingo but she looked weak and in need of help so eventually he decided to risk it. He cooed softly like he did with brumbies, taking care not to make any sudden movements. ”Molly. Molly, come here,” Sam hissed as quietly as he could afford to over his shoulder towards the open door to the hut. ”Easy girl, I’m not here to hurt you, I want to help.”

”He’s telling the truth, trust him. Please Ammi,” Lucas confirmed, nuzzling the she-dingo desperately. She looked so unhealthy, even worse than last time he’d seen her. It pained him to see Ammi like she was, she was his friend and the mother of his pups; he didn’t want her to die. Lucas barked at Sam in an attempt to try and hurry the man up. As if in response he hurried away, bringing back an old saddle blanket, water and some food. ”Please Ammi, let him help you,” the dog pleaded again.

[Tiggs]

Ammi whined and her tail thumped noisily on the wooden porch deck. Her tail seemed to be the only limb with energy, as she feebly lapped at Lucas’ chin. Momentarily distracted by her friend, her lips lifted in a growl when she saw the man looming in the doorway. No matter how many assurances Lucas gave her, she would never trust a man while she lay so prone and helpless. Her growl turned more vicious, and her bared teeth stated simply that she wanted the man to come no closer.

Molly roused herself from the chair she’s taken up by the aga at Sam’s insistence. He sounded urgent, and so she double-timed it over to the door. She peered out around Sam to the outside – saw nothing amiss – and then looked down to the porch with a gasp. “Sam, is that a dingo?” The young woman was certain it was a dingo, but what was it doing outside the hut? Certainly not scavenging.

Sam moved past her back into the hut and Molly squat on her haunches to get a better look at the canine. Lucas seemed to know the creature, and she came to the same conclusion as Sam when she saw the dingo’s bloated abdomen. The dingo, probably frightened of her proximity snapped her teeth and snarled in warning. Molly shuffled backward and fiddled with her belt. Sam was returning with blankets, water and food as she slipped the leather belt from the loops of her jeans.

Passing the end of the belt through the buckle, she held it in a loop and shuffled forward, watching the weak she-dingo for signs of attack. She slipped the loop of belt over the dingo’s broad muzzle, and pulled it tight like she would a lasso. The dingo thrashed and tried to free her head, but Molly had pounced and wrapped the belt tightly about the canines head in a makeshift muzzle.

Satisfied that Sam was not going to be mauled in his attempt to help, Molly looked to him for directions. The dingo was clearly having trouble with her labour, but pups were more fragile than foals and Molly was unsure how to help the creature. Sam seemed sure enough, though, so it seemed the golden dog was putting her health in the hands she was so eager to bite.

Sam had a way with animals – she’d noticed – and her hazel-brown eyes peered at him from under the bangs of her unruly light brown hair. He’d been attempting to flirt with her all evening, as was his habit these days, and she had steadfastly ignored any evocative comments. Men were all the same in her eyes; always after one thing only from a woman. But Sam was a little different. He treated his animals well and with a softness and affection that Molly guilty sometimes wished she could be on the receiving end of. She watched him tend the dingo with those large yet gentle hands, and wondered not for the first time how warm they were to the touch.

Ammi however did not wish at all that the man would show her any attention. Quite the opposite in fact. The contraption around her snout kept her from snapping at the man as he laid those giant probing hands on her, and she couldn’t summon the energy to stand. She started to shake instead, her eyes rolled up to Lucas, their white showing. The contractions had not stopped, but there were still no pups in evidence. The first had become stuck, and had suffocated in the tight birth canal. The rest still lived, but time was short for the unborn youngsters.

[tingara]

Quickly and gently Sam ran his hands over the she-dingo, feeling the pups in her belly and all the while grateful for the makeshift muzzle that Molly hade whipped up. ”Thanks, that will make it easier,” the man smiled at the woman warmly but then returned to looking serious. The situation at hand was tricky, it had been awhile since he’d seen or helped with the birthing of puppies and even then his father had been with him. Horses and foalings he could do no sweat but dogs were different, they were smaller and more delicate.

Underneath his hand the dingo shuddered in what he guessed was a contraction. Yet another wracked the poor girl’s body and yet there was no sign of a pup. Oh dear this was way beyond his area of expertise. ”If only you were a few metres tall and had hooves girl,” he sighed, frustrated that he couldn’t help. Desperately he tried to remember the times he’d helped his father with their cattle dogs. He remembered that a small push on the abdomen might help to move along a pup but Sam doubted it would be enough and he didn’t want to do anything to hurt the dingo.

”Molly, there’s a radio in the hut can you go radio a vet for me? Ask for David Stirling and do it quickly, we don’t have much time. When you get hold of one I’m going to need you to explain that we have a dingo bitch here that’s in labour but there seems to be a pup stuck in the birth canal. I then need you to ask him to walk through what I should do then relay that information to me out here, can you do that for me?” Sam asked Molly, an air of authority to his voice. When it came to saving the dingo he didn’t have time to be nice and gentle with the woman, he needed her alert and listening.

[Tiggs]

Ammi squirmed until she realised what a feeble effort it was. Whining, she looked to Lucas for reassurance.

Molly gave a curt nod at Sam’s instructions, only mildly bristling at the tone he used. He sought out the radio, familiarised herself with the controls and called for help. It seemed like an age, talking to a long line of people in a chain that eventually got her to David Stirling. She covered the receiver and yelled to Sam that she had him and quickly explained the situation to the owner of the calmest voice she had ever known.

“Thanks for your help, David, we appreciate it.” She added afterward, her foot tapping impatiently as she waited for the response to the sound of the crackle of radio silence. She thought the request for help with dingo was probably quite odd. It was rare that a man would ever help a wild creature, especially one as troublesome as a dingo. But Sam was proving once again that he was not just any other man.

[Illu]

  After Molly finished explaining everything a voice crackled to life on the other end of the line.

  “Molly? Okay, Molly? Can you hear me? I need you to get supplies. Anything you can. Clean towels – emphasis on clean – bandages; antiseptics – that’s ANTICEPTIC, not disinfectants – first aid kits. You need scissors and thread, okay? Also get a bowl of water and keep it where the bitch can get it. Try and find a watch. Or a clock or something that counts seconds. Bring it all back and tell me what you have. If you can’t get scissors then a sharp knife will do.

  “Is the bitch still on the floor? Get Sam to put her on a table with a clean towel under her but DON’T put ANY pressure on the womb when you pick her up. Be VERY careful how you handle her!”

[Tiggs]

Molly grumbled something about cleanliness and gave David an affirmative before she scurried off to find supplies. She came back with towels – clean towels – and a first aid kit. Setting it all down, she broke into the first aid kit and push aside bandages to find the bottle of antiseptic (she was glad she could read – all the bottles looked the same) and a reel of thread and a frightening-looking curved needle.

“Alright,” She said, picking up the receiver, “I have towels and antiseptic.” She picked up one of the towels. “We’ll move her now.” She set the receiver down again and dashed out to the porch, laying the towel down over the table in the centre of the main room.

“Sam, we have to put her on a table.” She explained. “Sterling said not to put pressure on her abdomen.” There was no way she was saying anything as embarrassing as ‘womb’ in front of Sam. “We have to be careful.” She knelt down to help Sam move the dingo. “Do you have a watch?” She asked as they made it to the table, glancing to his wrist.

[tingara]

While Molly moved to the radio, Sam watched her go and willed her to hurry with all his might. The poor dingo underneath him had precious little time to spare. The man looked to Lucas, standing protectively over the mother of his pups. ”This is your bloody fault,” he sighed softly, running his hands over the dingo again. ”Easy girl, this will all be over soon. Hurry Molly!” he called over his shoulder.

Sam heard her running all over the hut. That was a good sign. It meant she’d got onto Sterling and that she had received instruction from him. When she came out and relayed what she’d been told the man jumped into action. ”Alright, lift in three, two, one. Careful of the womb,” Sam grunted, lifting the dingo gently with Molly’s help.

Gingerly he lowered her onto the hut’s main table; looked like he’d be spending time to build another one after this. ”Yeah I got a watch,” the man answered, fishing one out of a nearby jacket’s pocket. ”Okay we got her on the table, now what? Is there anything else we need to do before Dave talks me through more?” he questioned the woman urgently. There was absolutely no room for error from this moment on.

[Tiggs]

Molly nodded, and disappeared out to the porch. She returned with the old metal bowl used for Lucas’s water and had filled it from the trough. She set that on the table near the dingo’s head, though she was going to be hard pressed to drink it with a muzzle on. The dingo would have to wait just a little longer, or until Molly could find a less makeshift solution.

She grabbed the collection of this, and set them out on the table within Sam’s reach. The young woman looked to the ceiling, mentally checking off the items. Towels, bandages, a watch, thread... “Scissors.” She said aloud, looking to Sam. “Scissors or a sharp knife.” She tilted her head a little, the question of where to find them evident.

[tingara]

Desperately Sam tried to keep the poor dingo calm and slow the contractions. He ran his hands gently over her head, speaking to her in soft-monotones. Inwardly he was panicking; he didn’t know what he was doing. Why couldn’t have David stayed up in the mountains? The vet was trained for helping animals of all sizes through giving birth; Sam only knew cattle and horses. Molly’s voice broke the man’s focus on the dingo for a moment, making him search his memory for where he’d left scissors or a sharp knife. ”There’s a sharp knife I use for rabbit next to the woodstove inside, and when you’re in there I need more instructions from Dave.”