One quiet morning at the Sunnybrook Animal Clinic, a woman rushed through the doors clutching her beloved pet duck, Cuddles, in her arms. The poor bird was completely limp, its head lolling to the side, its webbed feet dangling lifelessly.
Tears welled in the woman’s eyes as she laid Cuddles on the examination table. The vet, Dr. Harrison, gave her a reassuring nod before pulling out his stethoscope. He pressed it gently against the duck’s chest, listening carefully. After a long pause, he sighed and removed the earpieces.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Cuddles has passed away.”
The woman gasped. “Are you sure?!”
“Yes,” the vet replied. “I’m afraid there’s no heartbeat. Your duck is gone.”
“But—but you haven’t done any tests!” she protested, her voice rising. “What if he’s just in a coma? Or hibernating?! Ducks hibernate, right?”
Dr. Harrison suppressed a sigh. Without another word, he turned and walked out of the room.
The Lab Report
A few minutes later, he returned—with a golden Labrador named Max. The woman watched in stunned silence as Max stood on his hind legs, rested his front paws on the table, and thoroughly sniffed Cuddles from beak to tail. Then, with a sorrowful whimper, the dog shook his head.
The vet gave Max a pat. “Good boy.” Then he led the Lab out of the room.
The Cat Scan
Moments later, Dr. Harrison returned—this time with a sleek black cat named Shadow. The feline leaped gracefully onto the table, circled the duck, and delicately sniffed it from every angle. Finally, Shadow sat back, shook her head, let out a soft “meow,” and sauntered away.
Dr. Harrison folded his arms. “As I said before, your duck is most definitely, 100% certifiably deceased.”
Still in denial, the woman stammered, “But—but—”
The vet ignored her protests, turning instead to his computer. He typed a few keys, and the printer whirred to life. He handed her the bill.
Her eyes nearly popped out of her head.
“$1,000?!“ she shrieked. “You charged me $1,000 just to tell me my duck is dead?!”
Dr. Harrison shrugged. “Well, if you had taken my word for it, the bill would’ve been $20. But since you insisted on further testing…” He gestured toward the door where Max and Shadow had exited. “…the Lab Report and the Cat Scan really drove up the cost.”
Questions for the Comments:
- Was the vet justified in his methods?
- Would you have trusted the initial diagnosis, or would you have demanded more proof?
- And most importantly… what other animal puns could he have used to run up the bill even more? (X-ray? *”That’ll be an extra $500 for the Quack-scan.”*)
