PREVIOUSLY:
A few days later Gretchen said to Gus, “Ever since you went to Cheeseman’sfarm, rumour has it that you can do no wrong. He’s been telling everyone what a wonderful vet you are. He even told old Mrs Batty that you are unusually gifted and bright.”
 
Gus preened.  
 
Gretchen stared at him over the top of her glasses. “I get the feeling you haven’t told me everything about this.”
 
“Knowledge is power. Put it down to my excellent veterinary training back in Sydney.”
 
 
On Monday morning, Miranda brought in Gus’s first patient.
 
“What have we here?” Gus asked holding up a miniature mongrel puppy in one hand.
 
“Her name’s Mini.”
 
Gus laughed. “Mini and Miranda? No, that won’t do. It sounds ridiculous.”
 
“Don’t laugh,” she warned. “Unless you can think of a better name.”
 
Gus cocked his head to one side as he considered the shivering scrap sitting on his cold table. “First, are you sure it’s a dog?”
 
Miranda rolled her eyes, landing a playful slap on his shoulder. “Stop it! You’re mean. If you can’t think of anything better, then Mini will do.”
 
“No way! Look at its ears--they stick out sideways, and it has a flattish snout. To me, it looks like a wingnut.”
 
“A wingnut? What do you mean?”
 
“You know, one of those screw thread nuts with two flanges on the sides. Its ears kind of look like that.”
 
Miranda screwed up her nose. “Wingnut?”
 
“Yeah.”
 
She smiled. “Okay. Wingnut she is. Miranda and Wingnut--it sounds better because you thought of it.” As an afterthought, she added, “My Dad calls it a stoepkakker.”
 
Gus raised his brows. “What the heck is a stoepkakker?”
 
Miranda giggled. “It’s an Afrikaans word used for little dogs that poo around the house. Directly translated, it means veranda-pooper, because they don’t walk too far.”
 
“Well,” Gus replied, “it’s a fitting description. It’s easy to see how the phrase came about.”
 
“Hopefully, Wingnut will be better than that. I fully expect her to behave like a decent dog.”
 
Gus gave a wry smile. “That remains to be seen. Where did you find it?”
 
“Dumped on the roadside at the edge of town. Can you believe it?”
 
“Sadly, yes.”
 
“How old do you reckon Wingnut is?”
 
“Maybe about six weeks. She looks like a cross between a miniature pincher, a pug and maybe an alien.”
 
Miranda laughed. “I know she looks weird, but she’s irresistibly cute.”
 
“Wingnut needs to be vaccinated and dewormed,” Gus said. “She looks like a worm bus.”
 
Miranda’s eyes widened. “Don’t be horrible! Wingnut’s far too cute to have worms; besides, she’s too young.”
 
Gus chuckled. “Don’t fool yourself. Worms are no respecter of cuteness. Trust me; Wingnut has worms.”
 
“How can you tell simply by looking at her?”
 
“She has a pot-belly, a dry coat and I can see her ribs under her coat. Allow me to de-worm her right now. If you don’t she could get sick and die. Hookworms are a real problem in puppies.”
 
Miranda wavered as she hugged the pup close to her chest.
 
“Trust me. I’ll deworm and vaccinate her for free. Give here.”
 
“Okay, if you insist.”
 
Wingnut stood still while Gus treated her and then gave her back to Miranda. “There. All done. Give that dewormer about a day to work. From now on when you feed her, Wingnut, and not the worms, will be utilising the food. And here, use this shampoo to kill fleas. It’s safe for puppies. Make sure you rinse it off well.”
 
“Thanks. I’ll wash her right now outside in a bucket.”
 
The phone rang so Gus answered it. Afterwards, he hung up and went to find Miranda.
 
“Hey,” Gus said, “that was Steve Prinsloo, my boss from Phalaborwa, on the phone.”
 
She looked up. “Yes?”
 
“He’s working in Lydenburg for a few days. He says he received a couple of veterinary calls in Hoedspruit that he can’t get to, so he wants me to go and do the work. If we leave now, I’ll probably be gone all day. Do you want to come along?”
 
Miranda’s eyes shone. “Yeah, sure! I’m keen to see what you do but where can I leave Wingnut?”
 
“Leave her here with Gretchen.”
 
“Okay. Let me help you pack. What do you need?”
 
“The first call is to a farm with dying cattle, so I’d better take my microscope, slides, medication….” He rattled off a long list. “Then I have to see a horse with a sore leg at the Air Force Base Stables.”
 
After Gus had packed his car, he did a mental check to ensure everything was with him that might be needed. “Right. It’s about a two-hour-drive. Let’s get going.”
 
As they chugged along, Gus thought it was time to pop a few questions. “So, Miranda, I’ve heard you have another boyfriend.”
 
She looked up sharply.
 
“I hope you’re not two-timing me because I won’t stand for any nonsense.”
 
“I was dating a guy named Piet who stands to inherit some farm land. My father is keen for me to marry him so that our family estate can grow, but I don’t like him.”
 
“What changed your mind about him?”
 
Miranda sighed. “He has already cheated on me twice, and I think he drinks too much. To be honest, I find him scary.”
 
“Who is this guy? Piet, who?”
 
“Piet van der Skiet.”
 
Gus swallowed. “Is he any relation to Bruno van der Skiet?”
 
“Yes, Bruno is his father.”