We gave Doc Caldicott the space to move around the table, gently inspecting him for any other injuries. With gloved hands, she delicately and methodically parted his thick fur and searched as best she could. I heard the front door open and shut and I ran out of the examination room and beckoned in the vet. He was in his mid-fifties and had the calm manner of someone accustomed to frantic pet owners. Doc Caldicott indicated the areas she had examined. The vet nodded and removed the bandage from around Waffles’ neck.

‘Looks like a gunshot,’ he said, looking up at me while quickly re-wrapping the injury. ‘We’ll need to get him to the veterinary hospital, but I’ll have to stabilise him first.’ He opened his bag and pulled out a needle and a small bottle of liquid. The first shot made Waffles sleep, and he barely flinched as the vet shaved a quick patch onto his front leg and inserted a cannula which he then attached to a bag of fluid.

I stood at the other end, stroking my dog in his sleep.

Outside, Andy backed his station wagon up to the door of the deserted medical clinic. Wozza and I carried Waffles out and loaded him into the back. I started to climb in next to him when Andy put a hand on my shoulder. ‘He’s asleep and he’s in good hands. I will call you as soon as he’s out of surgery.’ He looked down at me. My white shirt was soaked with blood and I was a mess. ‘Go home. Get cleaned up.’

I started to protest.

‘You need to let me do my job.’ His voice brooked no argument.

‘C’mon,’ said Wozza, leading me back to the police car. ‘He’s gonna be okay. Andy is the best in the district.’

I turned to Doc Caldicott. ‘Thank you,’ I said, my voice breaking.

She gave me a quick hug, then she climbed into the front seat next to Andy and I knew Waffles was in the best hands he could be.

Wozza waited outside with me till Crime Scene officers had finished at the homestead. As a professional courtesy, they snapped their pictures and dusted for prints quicker than they might normally.

The minute the scene was cleared, Wozza got up from the cane chair on the verandah and moved inside. ‘Right,’ he said, rolling up his sleeves. ‘Where do we start?’

‘You don’t have to stay,’ I said.

‘No, I don’t, but wild horses couldn’t get me to leave. Jess is on her way too. She called her mum to come mind the kids.’

A sudden lump rose in my throat and my eyes welled.

Wozza nudged me. ‘No need to be a crybaby about it, Pollard,’ he said.

A laugh burst from my chest. I took a deep breath and swiped at the tears.