sci fi, exotic pet veterinarian, science fiction, free science fiction, book, jimmy jacobson, short story, story, fiction, free
The Exotic Pet Veterinarian
By Jimmy Jacobson
The phone rang as I was reviewing a spreadsheet for a client. Rubbing my fingers against my temples, I could almost feel the gray hairs that had been showing up there the past few months. I glanced at the time and reached to answer the phone, already knowing who it was and what this would be about. My wife and I have had this same argument at the same time every day for the past two months. Steeling myself, I put the phone to my ear.
“Goddamit, John!”
Feigning ignorance I asked, “What’s the matter, Rachel?”
“Don’t give me that, you know what this is about.”
And I did know what it was about, but it’s not about the reasons I told her. This was all about Andy, my old college roommate. He was a short guy with frizzy red hair and was full of a strange energy. Andy always had some crazy scheme brewing. After college we lost touch until I ran into him again about fifteen years ago in the bathroom at a business conference as I was washing my hands.
“I don't want my pet panda to reproduce?” I asked, dumbstruck. All I could do was repeat his last statement back to him in the form of a question.
“Right,” Andy barreled on with his pitch. “You work, you don't want to have to keep your panda locked inside all day but you also don't want to have to worry about a litter of panda cubs to raise because she was out roaming the city all day.”
“She?” I gaped.
“Well, or he. It doesn't matter. We'll be able to operate on both sexes.”
“Okay, stop for a minute. Let's assume I have a pet panda.”
“Right.”
“And it's a she.” I started to rewash my hands in the sink.
“Right.” Andy took a cue from me and washed his hands again too.
“Pandas are endangered animals. Why wouldn't I want it to, you know, have cubs?” I asked and assumed my logic would blaze forth like the rising sun evaporating the morning fog and end this conversation.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to raise baby pandas?”
Apparently I was wrong, “I don't know.”
“Hard.” Andy stated definitively.
“Well, I could sell them or give them away or something,” I offered, not noticing that I was giving ground and humoring this far fetched scenario as if it could be real.
“John,” it was Andy's turn to be incredulous. “It is illegal to sell Pandas, they are an endangered species.”
“But
not illegal to neuter them?”
“Nope, I checked.”
“Okay then, smart guy. Where did I get my pet panda?” Once again I assumed I was ending the conversation but apparently Andy was waiting for this opening.
“Ah, good question. I'm glad you asked. Finally.” Andy smiled, spread his hands out in front of him and said, “You had it cloned.”
“I had it cloned?” here we went again.
“Yeah, probably in South Korea,” Andy chattered eagerly.
“From Korea?” I went back to wash my hands for a third time, hoping Andy would get the hint that I wanted to leave.
“Oh yeah, their scientists are working on this already. It's going to be huge and I can just see a fantastic demand for getting the pandas fixed so that people don't have to deal with abandoned pets.”
“Andy, why wouldn't these panda clone owners just take the pandas to a regular vet to have the procedure done.”
“Simple, John. They won't have the experience. By the time cloned pandas hit critical mass, I'll have already been performing the operation on pandas for years. I don't think this will stop with just pandas either. Once it's possible to clone any animal, all kinds of endangered species will become popular pets.”
“Andy, this makes no sense.”
“Au contraire, John. It'll make a lot of cents!” Andy said while raising his right hand into the air, index finger pointing up as if he had just delivered a masterful stroke.
“Andy, why are you telling me about this?” I asked emphatically. If this was a joke, he was taking it too far. If he was serious, well that brought up a whole new level of concerns.
He broke into a huge smile and held his hands out towards me, “I’m looking for investors, John. This is going to be huge and I want you in on the ground floor. What do you say, buddy? If you are going to write a check, make it out to cash. I'm kind of between bank accounts at the moment. What do you say?”
“What did you say?” Rachel yelled at me, snapping me out of my reverie. I struggled to remember the last thing I had said to her before drifting off onto the Andy tangent.
“I don’t know, I just don’t know. I thought we had already agreed…”
Rachel interrupted me, “Don’t even say that. You aren’t the one that has to come home every day to this. We seriously need to talk about this when you get home.”
“We need to talk, John.” Again my mind drifted back in time. A few years after Andy first asked me to invest in his business idea I found myself killing time on Franklin Avenue before an appointment and heard someone calling my name. I turned around and there was Andy standing in front of a small shop. I quickly pretended to get something in my eye and turned to walk off and later I would claim I hadn't seen or heard him, but he chased me down.
“John,
so good to see you! How are you doing, buddy?”
“Andy,
it's going okay. Um, how are you?” I prayed to God this
conversation would be brief and normal.
“Busy John, spring is our busy season.”
“I didn't know web developers had busy seasons.”
“Oh, yeah they don't. But I don't do that anymore.”
It was coming, I had walked right into it and I tried to make myself pass out or throw up. Anything to get out of this inane conversation. Involuntarily, I found myself asking, “So what do you do now?” hoping it would be some multi level sales marketing scheme.
“You remember, I told you about it. Exotic Animal Sterilization.”
“Exotic Animal Sterilization?”
After several seconds of awkward silence he continued. “With spring coming up, a lot of people want to let their pandas, ocelots, crested ibises, manatees and sea turtles out doors for the first time without fear of them getting pregnant.”
“Ocelots, manatees, what? Have you really seen any of these? How do you sterilize a manatee, Andy?”
“Very carefully. It's a joke, get it? Very carefully? Seriously though, John. There are more of these animals here in the city than you would suspect. Times are tight, but word is getting out. Just last week we performed a successful operation on a bald eagle.”
“A bald eagle? Our national bird? You neutered a bald eagle?”
“Yup. It was tricky but nowhere near as difficult as the salt water crocodile.”
“The salt water croco... okay.” I couldn't take it anymore. “What about the pandas? Performed any panda neuterings?”
“Thanks for asking John. We have now successfully performed two panda sterilizations.”
“Two... successful... we?”
“Well, there were a few that I like to refer to as 'learning moments' as well. It is very difficult to even tell the sex of a panda. Their penises... penii... what is the plural of penis?”
“Dicks, Andy. It's dicks.”
“Um yeah, okay. The average length of the panda penis is 1.2 inches. That’s why most female pandas date black bears. That was a joke, but seriously, panda genitalia are hard to find through all that hair. We, my assistant Jamaul and I, first attempted shaving the pubic region of the panda in order to prep the area for surgery. But some irreparable damage was done to the panda in the process.”
“Irreparable?”
“Let's just say the procedure wasn't needed anymore. We actually had to move our shop after that. I'm also now going by Horatio, forgot to tell you that. The owners of the panda are still looking for us.”
“You really tried to shave a panda?”
“Oh yeah, our second try involved more of a trim of the hair and then an application of hot wax.”
“Hot wax? Doesn’t that violate the, you know, the Endangered Species Act?” I checked my watch and was relieved to find it was time for my appointment. But before I could say anything, Andy grabbed my arm and cut back in with an awkward smile.
“Well that part was a little tricky, but with a business license and our registration as a Zoo we were able to pick up insurance against malpractice and possible immunity against prosecution under the various international treatises that protect exotic animals.” This appeared to be just the break Andy had been waiting for. “Put any thought into investing in my practice? This is going to be huge buddy, absolutely huge. And I want you to get in on it.”
Shaking my head, I told him, “John. I don’t think so. You don’t have a great track record with these ideas of yours. How did the reality series combining extreme sports and clay pigeon sport shooting go?”
“Well, um. “ Andy hesitated.
“Exactly. I’m sorry, man. But I’m not interested.” I excused myself and left Andy standing on the sidewalk. I haven’t seen him in person since.
“Rachel, getting Ping Ling was your idea.” I told my wife who was still on the phone. Her stamina during an argument was legendary. One night while discussing pet ownership my heart had sunk as she told me her dream as a little girl was to have a pet panda and now that it was possible to adopt panda clones couldn’t we look into it? I finally gave in and we flew to Korea to bring our Ping Ling home.
“But why can’t we leave her outside when we are at work, John? I’m so tired of coming home to find panda crap on the rugs.” She pleaded with me.
“You know why, honey. If we leave her outside she could end up getting pregnant from a stray panda. The Silvias don’t even bother locking their two pandas up during the day, they just roam the streets. Do you know how hard it is to raise baby pandas?”
Exasperated, Rachel asked me the question I was dreading. “Why don’t we just get Ping Ling fixed then?”
I looked out the window at the huge billboard of Andy advertising his successful exotic pet sterilization franchises. Things had gone very well for him. Eight years ago his company won a major lawsuit against the U.S. Department of Fish and Wildlife over whether cloned animals could be covered under the Endangered Species Act. Andy’s lawyers argued successfully that since animals cloned in a laboratory had never been part of the wild population they weren’t subject to the same regulation. Pressure mounted behind my eyes and my temples thumped with pain. “We just can't, it's against my religion.” By the way she hung up I knew I was in for it when I got home. I hung my head for a few minutes, closed the blinds in my office and looked back to my spreadsheet.
Comments
OMG, what a hilarious story! I love how you take the story back and forth, but it all takes place over a single phone call. That's a fun ride! Wickedly demented!
Posted by Niqui on April 10th, 2009Post a new comment by filling out the form. All fields are required.