I explicitly requested the rabbit room, and instead they booked me into the doggie suite. I suppose the cutesy little affirmations on the walls are helpful if you’re a dog, but we rabbits don’t need that sort of thing.
Sammy at the vet, by Nikchick, licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0
Oh, joy — it’s another Monday. For two glorious days out of the week, I get to cuddle up to my human while she reads and watches TV, and then on Monday she has to go to some dumb job while I sit here and wait for her. Whose idea was this, anyway?
Clement endured the trip in silence, sandwiched between two of the boss’ toughest goons. It was only a few bills a week, nothing the boss would miss — or so he thought. But soon the limo would stop at the lake house, and Clement would answer to the man known only as Mr. Big.
Somebody snitched, Andrew Y.
“Well, I see the Roberson’s lawn still isn’t mowed. Why that lazy son of theirs can’t turn off that rock and roll long enough to cut it, I’ll never know. And the Spencer’s house next door is even worse, with those tacky plastic flamingos…”
