at the vet'sA Story by WoodySome people can be a little too sentimental with pets Jonathan was sitting on a bench in the
neon-lit corridor of the veterinarian’s office. His elbows were resting on his
knees, his head in his hands, eyes fixed on the ground, following the progress
of an ant dragging a crumb and doing the moon walk. That morning, Jonathan had found
his beloved cat lying by the entrance door, barely breathing. Heart pounding,
he’d rushed her to the vet’s. The swinging doors at
the end of the corridor opened and a young doctor came striding out in his
unbuttoned white uniform, a stethoscope draped over his shoulders. Jonathan
looked at him expectantly. The doctor smiled thinly and stretched his hand. “Dr. Mortis. Rhyger
Mortis” “Hello, Doctor. What’s
the news?” asked Jonathan in a tremulous voice. Dr. Mortis shook his head and
tried to look sympathetic. “I’m afraid there was
nothing I could do for your cat. I’m sorry for your loss”. Jonathan swiftly put his head in his hands and started to sob uncontrollably. Dr. Mortis patted him on the back like a mother trying to burp her baby. He took him gently by the arm and ushered him into his office. Overwhelming grief in public always embarrassed him. Jonathan raised his head. His face was streaked with tears,
his eyes red-rimmed and snot was streaming from his nostrils. Gross, if you ask
me. “What.. what.. k..
ki.. killed her, D..Doc?” (Oh, God! Pathetic, I know). Dr. Mortis offered
him a tissue and said “Curiosity”. © 2014 WoodyAuthor's Note
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Added on July 12, 2014Last Updated on July 17, 2014 Tags: just for fun, pets, cats, vet AuthorWoodyMateur, Bizerte, TunisiaAboutok, time for an update I think. my old friends have come to know me pretty well, I trust so this is for the new comers. I'm a Tunisian 60-year-old teacher-cum-translator, book worm who enjoys writing.. more..Writing
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