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jeriendhal“Honestly, Stu. Can't you go any faster? People are passing us,” Bonnie said urgently. She grabbed for the oh, carrots strap beside the door as an 18-wheeler zoomed by them in the highway's right lane, setting the old farm truck rocking in its wake.
“I go any faster I'll overheat the engine, you know that. We only bought this one to run produce over to the stand,” Stu said, keeping his eyes on the road. “Told ya we needed a new truck.”
“We needed the tractor repaired more,” she said. Which was true, but what she wouldn't give for one of those fancy SUV's now, instead of this twenty-year old rusty dusty pickup truck. They'd been on the road six hours now, and she couldn't help but think it would have just been faster to take the train, but when Nick's call had come all either of them could think of was getting out the door now.
“Time was I could've repaired the tractor m'self,” Stu went on. “These fancy new machines they're putting out with all that 'proprietary' software in the engines. Hmph! Used to be I could put the motor back together with a wrench and a spare can of motor oil, not have to call some trade school tech to come out because the whole works are more complicated than the darned Space Shuttle.”
Bonnie didn't argue with him about that one. She knew Stu was just venting about the tractor and truck to keep himself from thinking about Judy. She was doing the same thing herself, because if she thought too much about it all she'd be able to do is cry, and she couldn't cry right now. I knew this was going to happen, she thought. I knew it. I should have to told her no. I should have told her to stay on the farm like a normal bunny. Not run off to that horrible city. Not put on that damned uniform she wanted so much. Not dream.
“There she is,” Stu said, as the highway curved around a hill. Rising in the distance were a line of tall buildings, glowing like gold in the setting sun, stretching all along the horizon it seemed. Zootopia, the oldest and greatest city of all the animal kingdoms. Zootopia, center of trade, of the arts, of politics.
Zootopia, the city that ate her daughter.
“Turn the GPS back on, Stu,” she told him.
“I know, I know,” he said, flicking it on. “Need to fix the cigarette lighter in this thing so we don't run down the battery.”
Even with the GPS they got turned around twice, until Bonnie could only rapid-tap her foot on the rusty floor of the truck to keep herself from screaming at Stu to hurry up. “Watch it, Stu. You almost went into the mouse lane,” she said, as he passed a bus.
“I know, I know,” he muttered again, leaning over the dash as he tried to keep track of the traffic surrounding them.
Right turn ahead. Your destination is on the right, the GPS informed them. Then they turned the corner and the white washed concrete and glass tower of Zootopia General was in front of them, just like the views she'd seen on the TV when the news about the Night Howler attacks had broken out. “Where do we park?” she wondered.
“Across the street I think,” Stu said. “See, there's a sky bridge connecting the hospital to the garage.” He turned in and got a parking ticket from the machine (seven dollars an hour, God help them) and found a parking spot. “All right,” he said. He straightened his gimme cap on his head and helped her out the truck. “Ready, Hon?”
Bonnie nodded and squeezed his paw. “Ready, Stu.”
Paw in paw they walked up the stairs to the sky bridge and across it into the hospital lobby. Together they approached a wide desk manned by a giraffe, the words “Information” in large polished brass letters over her head.
“Excuse me,” Bonnie said to the giraffe. “We're Stu and Bonnie Hopps.” She swallowed, her throat suddenly tight. “Our daughter Judy was admitted here last night.” Beside her, Stu squeezed her paw so tight it almost hurt.
“Hopps? Oh, of course,” the giraffe said brightly. She tapped something into her computer. “Your daughter is in the Small Mammals ICU, room 23. I'll get your visitor bracelets.”
“Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Hopps?” a loud voice called out to their right. Bonnie turned to find a camera as big as the prize winning cannon from last year's pumpkin chunkin' contest pointed right at her face, while a white snow leopardess in a pantsuit held a microphone up to her. “Fabienne Growley, ZNN News. Could we have some comment on the horrible attack on your daughter, Officer Judy Hopps? Have you heard any further word on her condition? Are you worried for her safety, since her attacker is still at large?”
Frozen, Bonnie could only stutter, “I, um, we haven't heard... I....”
“Oh, sorry!” another voice cut in. Suddenly the biggest, fattest cheetah Bonnie had ever seen, dressed in a police uniform and carrying a large box of donuts and a bouquet of daisies under one arm, slide up beside them. “I'm really sorry,” he said cheerfully, coming between Bonnie and the cannon/camera. “The investigation is ongoing, so they're unable to comment. Chief Bogo and the provisional mayor will be issuing a statement to the press shortly, no idea when. Super great to meet you, Miss Growley. I love your show!” With his free paw he snatch a pair paper ID bracelets from the giraffe at the desk, hip checked the cameraman out of the way, and began herding Bonnie and Stu towards the elevators. “Let's go this way. That's it. Here we go.” Then suddenly they were in the elevator, the doors shutting out the reporter's questions and bringing blessed quiet.
“Whew!” the cheetah said, leaning against the wall. “I love her show, but honestly!” He held out his paw to shake theirs as the elevator moved upward. “Officer Clawhauser, ZPD. Super great to meet you, sir, ma'am.”
“Nice to meet you too, Officer,” Bonnie said gratefully, taking one the bracelets and slipping it over her wrist. “Are you a friend of Judy's?”
Clawhauser nodded and smiled, fat jowls shaking. “Oh, yes! I'm usually at the front desk at Precinct One, so I talk to her all the time. Judy is just the sweetest bunny in the world! Everybody loves her. Well, Chief Bogo just kinda growls a little more softly around her, but that's how the chief is.”
“Yes, Judy always knew, knows, how to make friends,” Bonnie agreed softly. Beside her, Stu squeezed her paw again.
The smile dropped from Clawhauser's face. “We're all awfully worried for her at the precinct station. It's... it's really tense around there at the moment. I was just coming off my shift, and I thought it would be nice to see her. Y'know, just in case, um...” His voiced faded and he finished miserably, “...in case.”
The elevator doors opened, and a nurse at the floor desk pointed them towards room 23. The door was shut, with a uniformed ZPD officer, a fierce looking wolf, standing by the door.
“Why is there a guard?” Stu asked. “Do you always have one when an officer is hurt?”
“Well, no,” Clawhauser explained. “But we do when the officer in question is well known to the public. You never never when some lone nut...” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Anyway, do you want me to come in with you?”
“Yes, please,” Bonnie told him. She and Stu both took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Then Bonnie let out a soft, despairing, “Oh, God.”
Her daughter lay in a hospital bed in the middle of the room, her eyes closed, a breathing tube down her throat, her left forearm shaved and a needle inserted in her arm, leading to a saline bag hanging from a stand beside the bed. The other arm was set in a cast leading all the way up to her shoulder, and her neck was encased in a plastic brace. She was dressed only in a hospital gown, and the bed cover was drawn all the way up to her chin. Beside the bed a bank of machines watched over her, amber lines recording her vital signs, bleeping softly.
“Oh.... Oh, she's so small,” Stu said, then turned towards Bonnie and started crying into her shoulder, while she patted his back gently.
Clawhauser glanced at them briefly, then crept forward towards the bed. “Hi, Judy,” he said softly. “I brought flowers, and donuts. I know you can't eat the donuts right now, but, I figured, I don't know. I mean everybody like donuts, right? Anyway... um, here.” He set the offering on a small table beside the bed. Then Bonnie's eyes followed him as he turned towards the front of the room.
“Where.... where did all those come from?” she asked. Sitting on a large table were what seemed like dozens of bouquets, in all the colors of the rainbow, filling the room with their sweet fragrances, including two large garlands that flanked the table on either side.
“Oh, let's see.” Clawhauser set his on bouquet on one the few uncovered spaces on the table, and started reading off the cards. “Well, the big one on the right is from our precinct, and the one on the left is from the Little Rodentia Business Protection Association. This really pretty one with the pink and blue roses is from Mr. and Mrs. Otterton. Mr. Otterton was one of the Night Howler victims, y'know. This one here is from East Saharan Elementary School. I think she and Nick did a class visit there once. This one that's wilting a bit is from somebody named Flash...”
“My goodness,” Bonnie said softly. “So many people. You mean all of them know our Judy?”
“Like you said, she knows how to make friends. It's kinda her superpower,” Clawhauser said, smiling a little.
Beside Judy's bed a little door opened, and a hamster dressed in scrubs and lab coat emerged, a rodent sized laptop under his arm, walking along a waist sized shelf built into the walls of the room. “Mr. and Mrs. Hopps?” he asked. “I'm Dr. Weismouser, your daughter's attending physician. If now is a good time, I'd like to go over her current condition with you.”
“I'll be outside,” Clawhauser said, slipping out the door and closing it behind himself. Beside her, Stu pulled his face out of Bonnie's now thoroughly wet shoulder to wipe his eyes and look at the doctor.
Dr. Weismouser started plugging his laptop into a station on the shelf, connected by a wire to a display over Judy's bed. “First off, how much detail would you like me to go into with you about your daughter's injuries? I have to warn you that they're quite extensive.”
Stu straightened up, his expression firm. “We're farmers, Doctor. We're not afraid of a little blood and guts. Give it to us straight.” Bonnie nodded in agreement.
Weismouser tapped into his laptop, and an MRI image of Judy's body appeared on the big screen, individual areas being highlighted as the hamster began his explanation. “Very well. First off, Officer Hopps' attacker struck her in the stomach with his claws, opening three large, diagonal wounds in her abdominal wall. The cuts sliced though her large intestine, and also tore open her celiac artery, the major blood vessel leading into her stomach. This accounts for the majority of her blood loss, though fortunately her partner was able to stem the flow sufficiently that the paramedics were able to stabilize her. In addition, when her attacker stuck her, he ended up propelling her over fifty feet across the street, where she struck a brick wall and fell an additional ten feet to the ground.”
Bonnie's ears lowered, and her nose began twitching in distress. “Go on,” she said.
“From Officer Wilde's report, it would seem that impact accounts for her shoulder, which was shattered in two places, the hairline fracture on the back of her skull, and the wrenching of the top of her spinal column. The neck brace is to relieve stress on her ligaments in that area. Though bunnies are lightweight when compared to other mammals, when she fell to the ground three of her ribs were broken, one them puncturing her lung and causing it to collapse.” The doctor closed his laptop and the display vanished. “That about sums up her injuries.”
“Well then,” Bonnie said, swallowing to retain her composure, Stu's paw gripping her's so tightly now it hurt, “What are you doing to help her?”
Weismouser gestured towards Judy's stomach. “Our trauma team went in and immediately sewed up the artery to prevent further blood loss. From there they were mostly concerned with restructuring her stomach. She's lost about five feet of intestine, and will be on a liquid diet for at least a month. We also of course sewed up the hole in her lung, then successfully re-inflated it, and will be setting pins in her shoulder to stabilize it when she's strong enough for additional surgery. In the meantime we are keeping her in a chemically induced coma and on a respirator to minimize the stress on her body.”
Bonnie felt Stu relax slightly. “So she will recover?” he asked in hope.
Dr. Weismouser paused, before answering carefully, “I think we should look at things realistically, Mr. Hopps.
“What's 'realistically' mean?” Stu said. “Is our daughter going to wake up or not?”
The doctor shrugged. “You are farmers, as you said. I'm sure you understand the limits of biology. Bunnies and other small mammals simply don't the same margins of recovery and reserves that larger mammals enjoy. Drop an anvil on an elephant or a buffalo, and they'll just give you the evil eye before trampling you. Do the same to a bunny or a weasel, and they'd be crushed. That said, your daughter endured injuries that would have simply have killed a mouse, a shrew, or hamster like myself. If we can prevent a post-op secondary infection from settling in, then chances are good that she might recover. The problem is her reserves of energy are exhausted. Her body is doing everything it can to heal, and that leaves her vulnerable to even smallest of infections or viruses.”
“I see, doctor,” Bonnie said. “So when will we know anything?”
“It will be at least three or four days before we can consider taking her out of her coma. After that, given the amount of time she spent under, it will be a week or more before she could be considered, er, coherent. If she survives that long, her chances for a full recovery are good, though she will likely have to pass a physical before she's permitted to take up policing duties again.” He rocked on his feet uncomfortably. “I should mention that as part of being a police officer, your daughter signed a living will. Should her condition grow, er, tenuous, we would have to ask your permission before removing her from life support.”
Bonnie and Stu both looked at the floor for a bit, before they were able to face Dr. Weismouser again. “We understand,” she said. “You'll let us know if anything changes? I mean, you'll let us know immediately?”
“The nurses have your contact information, yes. I assume you'll be staying in town?”
“For now. We can only stay a few days. Planting is coming up and we have be there for that.”
“All right then. I'll leave you with Judy for now. Good day to you both.” Bonnie and Stu both held out a finger claw for the doctor to shake, then he headed out the same small door he'd entered in.
Stu pulled a pair of plastic chairs from the side of the room, and they both sat, staring Judy silently, watching the rise and fall of her chest as the machines breathed for her. “Hey, Jude the Dude,” he said softly after a bit. “You're scaring your momma and me something awful. You'd better wake up soon and apologize to her.”
“We should have never let her go to the academy,” Bonnie whispered. “We should have told her no. I knew something like this was going to happen, I knew it.”
Stu sighed. “Oh, now Bonnie. You know we couldn't stopped her. She'd always had her heart set on helping folks.”
“Then she could have become a nurse, or a doctor, or scientist. Anything police officer!” Bonnie cried. Then Stu was wrapping his arms around her and rocked her as she wept for her daughter.
About ten minutes passed, allowing Bonnie to recovery from her crying jag, before there was a knock at the door. It opened, and a large buffalo entered the room, dressed in a uniform similar to Clawhauser's, but with four gold stars at his shoulder epaulets. “Mr. and Mrs. Hopps?” he said, in a deep Afrikaans accent. “Forgive me, but I'm Chief Bogo of the Zootopia Police Dept. You might not remember, but we met at last year's police academy graduation when Hopps' partner, Wilde, was inducted into the force. I just came around to check on Hopps, and see how you were doing.”
“Oh, yes, I remember,” Bonnie said hoarsely. “We're fine. Everyone has been very kind.”
“Good.” Chief Bogo seemed to pull in his shoulders a bit, trying to fit himself into the small room. “I want to personally reassure you that we doing everything we can to find the person who did this to Judy.”
He looks tired, Bonnie thought. She wondered if he'd gotten as little sleep as she and Stu had. “Thank you, Chief. I know Judy always spoke very highly of you.”
“She did?” Chief said, looking surprised, then muttered half to himself, “God only knows why.” He shook his head and went on, “At any rate, if you need anything, anything at all, feel free to contact me at the station any time, day or....” He was interrupted as Gazelle's latest number, Zootopia Strong, starting playing in the front pocket of his shirt. He growled in annoyance and snatched out his phone, snapping, “Bogo here.” After a moment he let out a louder growl. “Wilde, I told you to report to the counselor and then get some rest. You are not on this case. If you persist on pursuing it I will put you on administrative leave and then write you up for disobeying... What...? Who's responsible?” Chief Bogo pulled out a pen and notepad from his pocket, switching the phone to his left hand as he scribbled something down. “All right, excellent. Now go rest. You've done all you c--.” He paused again, listening, “He said what? Shit. Thank you, Wilde, we'll get right on it. Now sleep.”
Bonnie shared a glanced with Stu as Bogo put his phone away, then asked, “Is everything all right?”
“We have a lead on the bear that mauled Judy. More importantly, we have a lead on the mammal he's working for. Unfortunately a, um, concerned citizen with some local power is involving himself in a way that is only to make things very complicated.” Bogo glanced at them, his mind seeming to try and focus on a dozen threads at once. “Please stay here for now. I'm going to assign a plainclothes officer to escort you to your hotel and act as your, er, guide while you're both in city. Please don't gone anywhere until he arrives.”
“What going on? What's the matter?” Bonnie demanded.
“I can't discuss an ongoing investigation with civilians. I'm sorry, I know you have a right, but I just can't. Good day to you both.” Chief Bogo bowed himself out, closing the door firmly behind him. Faintly they could hear him speaking Clawhauser and the wolf officer, saying, “Stay right here and watch over the Hoppses. We've got three days to find this bastard before things go completely to hell!”
“I go any faster I'll overheat the engine, you know that. We only bought this one to run produce over to the stand,” Stu said, keeping his eyes on the road. “Told ya we needed a new truck.”
“We needed the tractor repaired more,” she said. Which was true, but what she wouldn't give for one of those fancy SUV's now, instead of this twenty-year old rusty dusty pickup truck. They'd been on the road six hours now, and she couldn't help but think it would have just been faster to take the train, but when Nick's call had come all either of them could think of was getting out the door now.
“Time was I could've repaired the tractor m'self,” Stu went on. “These fancy new machines they're putting out with all that 'proprietary' software in the engines. Hmph! Used to be I could put the motor back together with a wrench and a spare can of motor oil, not have to call some trade school tech to come out because the whole works are more complicated than the darned Space Shuttle.”
Bonnie didn't argue with him about that one. She knew Stu was just venting about the tractor and truck to keep himself from thinking about Judy. She was doing the same thing herself, because if she thought too much about it all she'd be able to do is cry, and she couldn't cry right now. I knew this was going to happen, she thought. I knew it. I should have to told her no. I should have told her to stay on the farm like a normal bunny. Not run off to that horrible city. Not put on that damned uniform she wanted so much. Not dream.
“There she is,” Stu said, as the highway curved around a hill. Rising in the distance were a line of tall buildings, glowing like gold in the setting sun, stretching all along the horizon it seemed. Zootopia, the oldest and greatest city of all the animal kingdoms. Zootopia, center of trade, of the arts, of politics.
Zootopia, the city that ate her daughter.
“Turn the GPS back on, Stu,” she told him.
“I know, I know,” he said, flicking it on. “Need to fix the cigarette lighter in this thing so we don't run down the battery.”
Even with the GPS they got turned around twice, until Bonnie could only rapid-tap her foot on the rusty floor of the truck to keep herself from screaming at Stu to hurry up. “Watch it, Stu. You almost went into the mouse lane,” she said, as he passed a bus.
“I know, I know,” he muttered again, leaning over the dash as he tried to keep track of the traffic surrounding them.
Right turn ahead. Your destination is on the right, the GPS informed them. Then they turned the corner and the white washed concrete and glass tower of Zootopia General was in front of them, just like the views she'd seen on the TV when the news about the Night Howler attacks had broken out. “Where do we park?” she wondered.
“Across the street I think,” Stu said. “See, there's a sky bridge connecting the hospital to the garage.” He turned in and got a parking ticket from the machine (seven dollars an hour, God help them) and found a parking spot. “All right,” he said. He straightened his gimme cap on his head and helped her out the truck. “Ready, Hon?”
Bonnie nodded and squeezed his paw. “Ready, Stu.”
Paw in paw they walked up the stairs to the sky bridge and across it into the hospital lobby. Together they approached a wide desk manned by a giraffe, the words “Information” in large polished brass letters over her head.
“Excuse me,” Bonnie said to the giraffe. “We're Stu and Bonnie Hopps.” She swallowed, her throat suddenly tight. “Our daughter Judy was admitted here last night.” Beside her, Stu squeezed her paw so tight it almost hurt.
“Hopps? Oh, of course,” the giraffe said brightly. She tapped something into her computer. “Your daughter is in the Small Mammals ICU, room 23. I'll get your visitor bracelets.”
“Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Hopps?” a loud voice called out to their right. Bonnie turned to find a camera as big as the prize winning cannon from last year's pumpkin chunkin' contest pointed right at her face, while a white snow leopardess in a pantsuit held a microphone up to her. “Fabienne Growley, ZNN News. Could we have some comment on the horrible attack on your daughter, Officer Judy Hopps? Have you heard any further word on her condition? Are you worried for her safety, since her attacker is still at large?”
Frozen, Bonnie could only stutter, “I, um, we haven't heard... I....”
“Oh, sorry!” another voice cut in. Suddenly the biggest, fattest cheetah Bonnie had ever seen, dressed in a police uniform and carrying a large box of donuts and a bouquet of daisies under one arm, slide up beside them. “I'm really sorry,” he said cheerfully, coming between Bonnie and the cannon/camera. “The investigation is ongoing, so they're unable to comment. Chief Bogo and the provisional mayor will be issuing a statement to the press shortly, no idea when. Super great to meet you, Miss Growley. I love your show!” With his free paw he snatch a pair paper ID bracelets from the giraffe at the desk, hip checked the cameraman out of the way, and began herding Bonnie and Stu towards the elevators. “Let's go this way. That's it. Here we go.” Then suddenly they were in the elevator, the doors shutting out the reporter's questions and bringing blessed quiet.
“Whew!” the cheetah said, leaning against the wall. “I love her show, but honestly!” He held out his paw to shake theirs as the elevator moved upward. “Officer Clawhauser, ZPD. Super great to meet you, sir, ma'am.”
“Nice to meet you too, Officer,” Bonnie said gratefully, taking one the bracelets and slipping it over her wrist. “Are you a friend of Judy's?”
Clawhauser nodded and smiled, fat jowls shaking. “Oh, yes! I'm usually at the front desk at Precinct One, so I talk to her all the time. Judy is just the sweetest bunny in the world! Everybody loves her. Well, Chief Bogo just kinda growls a little more softly around her, but that's how the chief is.”
“Yes, Judy always knew, knows, how to make friends,” Bonnie agreed softly. Beside her, Stu squeezed her paw again.
The smile dropped from Clawhauser's face. “We're all awfully worried for her at the precinct station. It's... it's really tense around there at the moment. I was just coming off my shift, and I thought it would be nice to see her. Y'know, just in case, um...” His voiced faded and he finished miserably, “...in case.”
The elevator doors opened, and a nurse at the floor desk pointed them towards room 23. The door was shut, with a uniformed ZPD officer, a fierce looking wolf, standing by the door.
“Why is there a guard?” Stu asked. “Do you always have one when an officer is hurt?”
“Well, no,” Clawhauser explained. “But we do when the officer in question is well known to the public. You never never when some lone nut...” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Anyway, do you want me to come in with you?”
“Yes, please,” Bonnie told him. She and Stu both took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Then Bonnie let out a soft, despairing, “Oh, God.”
Her daughter lay in a hospital bed in the middle of the room, her eyes closed, a breathing tube down her throat, her left forearm shaved and a needle inserted in her arm, leading to a saline bag hanging from a stand beside the bed. The other arm was set in a cast leading all the way up to her shoulder, and her neck was encased in a plastic brace. She was dressed only in a hospital gown, and the bed cover was drawn all the way up to her chin. Beside the bed a bank of machines watched over her, amber lines recording her vital signs, bleeping softly.
“Oh.... Oh, she's so small,” Stu said, then turned towards Bonnie and started crying into her shoulder, while she patted his back gently.
Clawhauser glanced at them briefly, then crept forward towards the bed. “Hi, Judy,” he said softly. “I brought flowers, and donuts. I know you can't eat the donuts right now, but, I figured, I don't know. I mean everybody like donuts, right? Anyway... um, here.” He set the offering on a small table beside the bed. Then Bonnie's eyes followed him as he turned towards the front of the room.
“Where.... where did all those come from?” she asked. Sitting on a large table were what seemed like dozens of bouquets, in all the colors of the rainbow, filling the room with their sweet fragrances, including two large garlands that flanked the table on either side.
“Oh, let's see.” Clawhauser set his on bouquet on one the few uncovered spaces on the table, and started reading off the cards. “Well, the big one on the right is from our precinct, and the one on the left is from the Little Rodentia Business Protection Association. This really pretty one with the pink and blue roses is from Mr. and Mrs. Otterton. Mr. Otterton was one of the Night Howler victims, y'know. This one here is from East Saharan Elementary School. I think she and Nick did a class visit there once. This one that's wilting a bit is from somebody named Flash...”
“My goodness,” Bonnie said softly. “So many people. You mean all of them know our Judy?”
“Like you said, she knows how to make friends. It's kinda her superpower,” Clawhauser said, smiling a little.
Beside Judy's bed a little door opened, and a hamster dressed in scrubs and lab coat emerged, a rodent sized laptop under his arm, walking along a waist sized shelf built into the walls of the room. “Mr. and Mrs. Hopps?” he asked. “I'm Dr. Weismouser, your daughter's attending physician. If now is a good time, I'd like to go over her current condition with you.”
“I'll be outside,” Clawhauser said, slipping out the door and closing it behind himself. Beside her, Stu pulled his face out of Bonnie's now thoroughly wet shoulder to wipe his eyes and look at the doctor.
Dr. Weismouser started plugging his laptop into a station on the shelf, connected by a wire to a display over Judy's bed. “First off, how much detail would you like me to go into with you about your daughter's injuries? I have to warn you that they're quite extensive.”
Stu straightened up, his expression firm. “We're farmers, Doctor. We're not afraid of a little blood and guts. Give it to us straight.” Bonnie nodded in agreement.
Weismouser tapped into his laptop, and an MRI image of Judy's body appeared on the big screen, individual areas being highlighted as the hamster began his explanation. “Very well. First off, Officer Hopps' attacker struck her in the stomach with his claws, opening three large, diagonal wounds in her abdominal wall. The cuts sliced though her large intestine, and also tore open her celiac artery, the major blood vessel leading into her stomach. This accounts for the majority of her blood loss, though fortunately her partner was able to stem the flow sufficiently that the paramedics were able to stabilize her. In addition, when her attacker stuck her, he ended up propelling her over fifty feet across the street, where she struck a brick wall and fell an additional ten feet to the ground.”
Bonnie's ears lowered, and her nose began twitching in distress. “Go on,” she said.
“From Officer Wilde's report, it would seem that impact accounts for her shoulder, which was shattered in two places, the hairline fracture on the back of her skull, and the wrenching of the top of her spinal column. The neck brace is to relieve stress on her ligaments in that area. Though bunnies are lightweight when compared to other mammals, when she fell to the ground three of her ribs were broken, one them puncturing her lung and causing it to collapse.” The doctor closed his laptop and the display vanished. “That about sums up her injuries.”
“Well then,” Bonnie said, swallowing to retain her composure, Stu's paw gripping her's so tightly now it hurt, “What are you doing to help her?”
Weismouser gestured towards Judy's stomach. “Our trauma team went in and immediately sewed up the artery to prevent further blood loss. From there they were mostly concerned with restructuring her stomach. She's lost about five feet of intestine, and will be on a liquid diet for at least a month. We also of course sewed up the hole in her lung, then successfully re-inflated it, and will be setting pins in her shoulder to stabilize it when she's strong enough for additional surgery. In the meantime we are keeping her in a chemically induced coma and on a respirator to minimize the stress on her body.”
Bonnie felt Stu relax slightly. “So she will recover?” he asked in hope.
Dr. Weismouser paused, before answering carefully, “I think we should look at things realistically, Mr. Hopps.
“What's 'realistically' mean?” Stu said. “Is our daughter going to wake up or not?”
The doctor shrugged. “You are farmers, as you said. I'm sure you understand the limits of biology. Bunnies and other small mammals simply don't the same margins of recovery and reserves that larger mammals enjoy. Drop an anvil on an elephant or a buffalo, and they'll just give you the evil eye before trampling you. Do the same to a bunny or a weasel, and they'd be crushed. That said, your daughter endured injuries that would have simply have killed a mouse, a shrew, or hamster like myself. If we can prevent a post-op secondary infection from settling in, then chances are good that she might recover. The problem is her reserves of energy are exhausted. Her body is doing everything it can to heal, and that leaves her vulnerable to even smallest of infections or viruses.”
“I see, doctor,” Bonnie said. “So when will we know anything?”
“It will be at least three or four days before we can consider taking her out of her coma. After that, given the amount of time she spent under, it will be a week or more before she could be considered, er, coherent. If she survives that long, her chances for a full recovery are good, though she will likely have to pass a physical before she's permitted to take up policing duties again.” He rocked on his feet uncomfortably. “I should mention that as part of being a police officer, your daughter signed a living will. Should her condition grow, er, tenuous, we would have to ask your permission before removing her from life support.”
Bonnie and Stu both looked at the floor for a bit, before they were able to face Dr. Weismouser again. “We understand,” she said. “You'll let us know if anything changes? I mean, you'll let us know immediately?”
“The nurses have your contact information, yes. I assume you'll be staying in town?”
“For now. We can only stay a few days. Planting is coming up and we have be there for that.”
“All right then. I'll leave you with Judy for now. Good day to you both.” Bonnie and Stu both held out a finger claw for the doctor to shake, then he headed out the same small door he'd entered in.
Stu pulled a pair of plastic chairs from the side of the room, and they both sat, staring Judy silently, watching the rise and fall of her chest as the machines breathed for her. “Hey, Jude the Dude,” he said softly after a bit. “You're scaring your momma and me something awful. You'd better wake up soon and apologize to her.”
“We should have never let her go to the academy,” Bonnie whispered. “We should have told her no. I knew something like this was going to happen, I knew it.”
Stu sighed. “Oh, now Bonnie. You know we couldn't stopped her. She'd always had her heart set on helping folks.”
“Then she could have become a nurse, or a doctor, or scientist. Anything police officer!” Bonnie cried. Then Stu was wrapping his arms around her and rocked her as she wept for her daughter.
About ten minutes passed, allowing Bonnie to recovery from her crying jag, before there was a knock at the door. It opened, and a large buffalo entered the room, dressed in a uniform similar to Clawhauser's, but with four gold stars at his shoulder epaulets. “Mr. and Mrs. Hopps?” he said, in a deep Afrikaans accent. “Forgive me, but I'm Chief Bogo of the Zootopia Police Dept. You might not remember, but we met at last year's police academy graduation when Hopps' partner, Wilde, was inducted into the force. I just came around to check on Hopps, and see how you were doing.”
“Oh, yes, I remember,” Bonnie said hoarsely. “We're fine. Everyone has been very kind.”
“Good.” Chief Bogo seemed to pull in his shoulders a bit, trying to fit himself into the small room. “I want to personally reassure you that we doing everything we can to find the person who did this to Judy.”
He looks tired, Bonnie thought. She wondered if he'd gotten as little sleep as she and Stu had. “Thank you, Chief. I know Judy always spoke very highly of you.”
“She did?” Chief said, looking surprised, then muttered half to himself, “God only knows why.” He shook his head and went on, “At any rate, if you need anything, anything at all, feel free to contact me at the station any time, day or....” He was interrupted as Gazelle's latest number, Zootopia Strong, starting playing in the front pocket of his shirt. He growled in annoyance and snatched out his phone, snapping, “Bogo here.” After a moment he let out a louder growl. “Wilde, I told you to report to the counselor and then get some rest. You are not on this case. If you persist on pursuing it I will put you on administrative leave and then write you up for disobeying... What...? Who's responsible?” Chief Bogo pulled out a pen and notepad from his pocket, switching the phone to his left hand as he scribbled something down. “All right, excellent. Now go rest. You've done all you c--.” He paused again, listening, “He said what? Shit. Thank you, Wilde, we'll get right on it. Now sleep.”
Bonnie shared a glanced with Stu as Bogo put his phone away, then asked, “Is everything all right?”
“We have a lead on the bear that mauled Judy. More importantly, we have a lead on the mammal he's working for. Unfortunately a, um, concerned citizen with some local power is involving himself in a way that is only to make things very complicated.” Bogo glanced at them, his mind seeming to try and focus on a dozen threads at once. “Please stay here for now. I'm going to assign a plainclothes officer to escort you to your hotel and act as your, er, guide while you're both in city. Please don't gone anywhere until he arrives.”
“What going on? What's the matter?” Bonnie demanded.
“I can't discuss an ongoing investigation with civilians. I'm sorry, I know you have a right, but I just can't. Good day to you both.” Chief Bogo bowed himself out, closing the door firmly behind him. Faintly they could hear him speaking Clawhauser and the wolf officer, saying, “Stay right here and watch over the Hoppses. We've got three days to find this bastard before things go completely to hell!”
