Page 54 of Twin Babies for the Pucking Billionaires

I walk into the examination room where Mrs. Thompson is waiting with Whiskers. The cat is curled up in her lap, looking annoyed.

“Good morning, Mrs. Thompson,” I say, putting on my professional smile. “How’s Whiskers doing?”

“He’s been a bit grumpy lately,” she replies, stroking the cat’s head. “I think he’s just getting grouchy in his old age.”

“Let’s have a look,” I say, gently lifting Whiskers onto the examination table.

Whiskers hisses but settles down as I start the check-up. His fur is in good condition and his weight is stable. I listen to his heart and lungs, then check his temperature. I do a full exam to check his teeth, ears, legs, paws, abdomen, lymph nodes and thyroid gland making sure everything is as it should be.

I give him his annual vaccines, smiling as he growls a little each time I have to touch him.

“He’s looking good overall, but let’s check some bloodwork here in a few months when he is due for a dental cleaning. Just to make sure we aren’t missing anything.” I tell Mrs. Thompson.

“Thank you, Dr. Anderson.”

“No problem,” I reply, giving Whiskers a final pat before handing him back. “Victoria will help you schedule his next appointment.”

I step out of the examination room, feeling a bit more at ease. Work always has a way of distracting me, at least temporarily.

“Who’s next?” I ask Victoria.

“Mr. Green with his dog Max,” she says, handing me the next file.

I nod and head back into the examination room. Mr. Green is already there with Max, a lively golden retriever.

“Hey, Max,” I greet, ruffling his fur. “How’s my favorite patient?”

“He’s been great,” Mr. Green says. “But I think he’s got something stuck in his paw.”

“Let’s take a look,” I say, hunkering down by the dog.

Max wags his tail, looking up at me with trusting eyes. I gently examine his paw and find a small thorn lodged in it.

“Nothing too serious,” I say, removing the thorn carefully. “Just keep an eye on it and make sure it doesn’t get infected. That means: keep it clean and dry. He cannot lick at it, so if he starts to then he needs to wear a cone collar. Let me get you some prescription topical spray you can put on it twice a day until it heals.”

“Thanks, Dr. Anderson,” Mr. Green says, looking relieved. “I was worried.”

“Anytime,” I reply, giving Max a final pat. “Take care, Max.”

After they leave, I take a moment to breathe. My mind drifts back to Millie, wondering how her day is going and what else she might want to tell me.

“Victoria,” I call out as I walk back to the front desk. “Any more appointments this morning?”

“Just one more,” she says, handing me another file. “Mrs. Evans with her rabbit, Snowball.”

I nod, taking the file and heading to the examination room. Mrs. Evans is waiting for me with a fluffy white rabbit.

“Morning, Mrs. Evans,” I say, giving her a reassuring smile. “How’s Snowball today?”

“A bit under the weather,” she says, her voice tinged with worry. “He’s not eating much.”

“Let’s see what’s going on,” I say, gently picking up Snowball.

I examine the rabbit carefully, checking his vital signs, his teeth, ears, and overall condition. I notice his teeth are slightly overgrown, which could be causing discomfort.

“His teeth need a bit of trimming,” I explain. “That should help with his eating.”

“Thank you, Dr. Anderson,” Mrs. Evans says, looking relieved. “I was so worried.”

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