Chapter One:
"How about Ralph?" asked Stella Sullivan. She pedaled her bike past a wooden fence which enclosed a hilly pasture. Beyond the pasture, mountains jutted up against the sky. Josie Russell pulled even with her. Few cars traveled the blacktop road, so there was plenty of room to ride.
"No way," Josie said. "That name reminds me of throwing up. You can't name your dog that."
My dog, Stella said to herself. She felt a jolt of excitement in her tummy. She could hardly believe she was getting a puppy that day.
"Maybe Aunt Anya will help us pick a name," Stella told Josie.
"Yeah!" Josie said. "She knows the name of every dog in town."
Stella's Aunt Anya was the only veterinarian in Gateway, Montana. She cared for dogs, cats, gerbils and other pets. She helped the ranchers keep their livestock healthy. She even doctored a wild critters.
"Hey, Stella who's that?" Josie asked.
"Don't know."
The girls had just turned a bend in the road. They could see the animal clinic. A man dressed in dusty jeans and a cowboy hat was standing on the clinic's porch. The girls started to pedal faster when they realized he was kicking the clinic door.
"I bet he's a burglar!" Josie exclaimed.
"We've got to stop him!" Stella stood up on her pedals, and started to ride faster.
As Stella dropped her bike on the clinic's sidewalk, the cowboy pounded the door with his fists. "Vet!" he hollered. Vet? Stella thought. What would a burglar want with Aunt Anya?
That's when Stella noticed a dog lying on the clinic steps. Stella's heart started jack hammering. The tan-and-white Welsh Corgi looked very sick maybe even dead.
Stella took the steps two at a time. "What's wrong with your dog?"
The cowboy turned away from the door. "She's dying! And the vet won't answer the door."
Stella glanced toward the street. Anya's truck was nowhere to be seen.
"She must be out on an emergency," Josie said.
"Well, ain't this an emergency?" the cowboy wailed. "Amber's dying, I tell you."
Stella dropped to her knees next to the dog. "What happened to her?"
The cowboy took off his hat, and threw it to the ground. "I don't know. If I knew, you think I'd be here?"
Stella ran her hand over the corgi's head, the dog's fur feeling smooth under her fingers. Amber's eyes were closed. Her jaw hung open slightly, revealing a row of even white teeth.
Josie crept closer. "Maybe it's the heat."
Stella turned to the cowboy. "Did you have Amber outside? Running around?"
"No." The cowboy ran his hands through his damp hair. "We were inside watching TV. I've got an air conditioner. And I put plenty of water in Amber's bowl."
Stella pulled a set of keys from her pocket, and tossed them to Josie. "Call Anya on her cell phone," she suggested. "Tell her to get back here right away."
Josie nodded. She pushed by the cowboy, and fit the key into the lock. She opened the door, stepping into the darkened clinic.
"What happened next?" Stella asked the cowboy.
"Amber started running around in circles." The cowboy's voice broke. "She was clawing at her mouth. I got her into my pickup right away. I don't live far out of town. But by the time I got here, she had passed out."
Josie came back out onto the steps. "Anya's on her way," she reported. "She's about ten minutes outside of town."
Ten minutes is too long, Stella thought. She knew Amber would be a goner by then if she wasn't already. Stella sat back on her heels and willed herself to think.
She started clawing at her mouth . . . .
Leaning forward, Stella slipped her fingers into Amber's mouth. She pushed her fingers beyond the dog's moist tongue. She could feel a smooth object wedged into her breathing passages.
"I think Amber has a ball stuck in her throat," Stella mumbled.
"Get it out," the cowboy demanded. "Amber can't breathe with that thing in there!"
"I can't get hold of it," Stella said. "The sides are too smooth."
Stella stood up and straddled Amber's side. She took a deep breath, bent her knees, and pushed hard on Amber's ribs. Nothing happened.
She had seen Anya remove many objects from animals' mouths: bones, chew toys, coins. Anya made getting weird stuff out from where it didn't belong look easy. But Stella had never tried fishing a ball out of a dog's throat herself. She wasn't sure why it wasn't working.
Stella straightened up. Maybe I should push harder, she thought. But then she hesitated. What if she pushed so hard that she broke Amber's ribs? Just do it, Stella told herself. If you don't, Amber will die from lack of air. What's a broken rib compared to that?
Screwing up her courage, Stella bent her knees and pushed on Amber's side. She almost cried with relief when a small red ball shot out of Amber's mouth.
Stella collapsed back onto the porch, watching the dog.
Josie was hovering over her shoulder.
The cowboy was waiting tensely on the steps.
It's up to you now, girl, Stella thought. She knew it was possible the dog had gone without oxygen for too long to recover.
Just as that frightening thought passed though Stella's mind, Amber breathed in. Her side quivered with the effort.
"All right!" Josie patted Stella on the back.
The corgi's eyes opened. The dog stumbled to her pudgy-looking feet and shook herself soundly. Then she cocked her oval-shaped head at Stella as if to say "Who are you?" She even managed a little wag of her stubby tail.
The cowboy dropped to his knees and hugged the dog. "Thank you, little lady," he shouted right in Stella's ear.
"You're welcome," Stella said.
"You should be a vet when you grow up," the cowboy said.
"I'm going to be," Stella told him.
