By WILLIAM M. HARTNETT
Palm Beach Post Staff Writer
Florida’s first line of defense against West Nile virus is lying on its back, strapped to a wooden contraption on the tailgate of a pickup, its legs held aloft in a pair of stirrups.
With a flick of his thumb, a man named Bob, who will later observe that “bleeding comes easy to me,” deftly uncaps a syringe in his right hand as he holds the “patient” steady with his left hand. And just as Bob is about to slide the needle into a vein, a slow, pathetic and low, almost pleading, sound resonates from deep within the creature’s throat: