He set the tiny kitten in the center of his big firefighter glove. The sight reminded him of King Kong holding tiny Ann Darrow in the palm of his hand. Could Trey save this little one? He’d never performed AR on a cat before, but he had watched training videos and he had to try. He wiped the sweat from his brow with a corner of his towel, unzipped his jacket, and knelt down with his bright parka flaring out around him.
He positioned the kitten so he lay on his side with his four legs extended on top of the glove. First, he opened the kitten’s mouth and tugged the tongue to the front of the mouth. Second, he gently closed and held the mouth shut. Third, he made sure the kitten’s neck was straight so the airway was open. Fourth, he stood up, lifting the kitty on his glove. He bent forward and sent a soft puff of air into the kitten’s nose, one breath every four to five seconds.
Now was the time for a Christmas miracle.
Morning Glory ran up to them, necklaces jingling around her neck. She leaned in close to the kitten. “Blessings on this sweet baby. Let the spiritual forces of this magical season of renewal and rebirth help this kitten find the strength to recover.”
“Thank you,” Misty said.
Morning Glory turned to Misty and gave her a quick hug.
Trey kept up the puffs of air, about the same strength as he would for a human baby, hoping against hope that it’d be enough. Soon he saw the kitten’s chest rise with his breath, then relax after his breath.
He gave Misty and Morning Glory a big smile before he went back to giving air to the kitten. At the same time, he experienced everything around him with the keen clarity that came in a crisis or emergency. He glanced up. Now that the house fire was under control, the firefighters had turned their attention to the kitten. He knew they were rooting for him to keep the little one alive.
“Vet now?” Misty asked as she picked up Trey’s extra glove.
“He’s breathing, so let’s go.”
“Blessings.” Morning Glory held up two fingers in the peace sign.
As Trey headed for his truck, holding the kitten in his glove, Misty raced ahead of him. He continued the AR as he followed her. She flung open the passenger door to his pickup and he eased onto the leather seat. She shut the door, and then ran around to the other side. She sat down inside, tossed his glove in the backseat, and started the engine.
“Where to?” she asked.
“Left on Wildcat Road.”
She headed downhill, obviously driving quickly but cautiously so as not to jostle the kitten.
He held the little one steady and kept up the puffs of air, grateful and amazed the kitty kept responding to him. Maybe Wildcat Bluff would get a Christmas miracle as well as a Christmas angel. He glanced over at Misty. Maybe the two came together.
When Misty turned onto the main road, he pointed toward a one-story, white cinder-block building in the distance.
“That the vet?”
“Yes.”
She gripped the steering wheel with both hands as she sped down the road well over the speed limit.
“How’s our boy?”
“Hangin’ in there.”
Misty covered the last distance, wheeled into the empty parking lot, scattering gravel, and pulled up close to the front door. She leaped from the truck, ran around the front end, and jerked open Trey’s door.
He dropped the glove so he could cradle the kitten in both hands. As he stepped down, he continued the AR. He quickly strode up to the building painted with bright murals of large and small animals—horses, cows, goats, dogs, cats, birds—in pinks, blues, yellows and other vibrant colors. A string of horse-shaped lights in green and red outlined the edge of the roof. A large silver-and-green wreath with a crimson cardinal in a shiny nest hung on the front door.
Misty opened the door for Trey, anticipating his every need, and he stepped inside. He heard her follow closely behind him.
“Trey, what’ve you got?” a tall woman with short steel-gray hair called from behind the counter as she jumped to her feet. She wore jeans and a T-shirt with a photo of a laughing horse, all big white teeth and flapping lips. “I heard about the fire.”
“Male kitten. Smoke inhalation.” He felt relief at the sight of Sue Ann Bridges, their large and small animal veterinarian. He’d feared she might be out on a call. Her assistants were well trained, but he wanted her for this kitten. Sue Ann was totally dependable and wonderful at saving animals.
“AR?”
“Yes.”
“Good for you.” Sue Ann quickly left the desk, disappeared from sight, and then opened the inner door. “I’ll say it again. You need to get animal oxygen mask kits for all the volunteers.”
“No money yet.” He followed her down the wide hall with Misty right behind him.
“Put them on your fire-rescue Christmas list.” Sue Ann opened a door off the hall and gestured inside. “Quick. Get that baby in my consultation room.”