Millie's Trip to the vet

The sunlight was breaking through the gaps in the surrounding trees, painting the grass golden. The air smelled of honeysuckle, and the livestock on the farm began to speak their morning complaints to the bugs that buzzed around them. If you really concentrate between the bird songs and the cows' mooing, you can make out the main road with the few cars that are about on a Sunday.

One of these automotives contained Millie and her mum. Millie was a very clever young lady, despite travelling on four paws. Millie knew her mother was stripping her from the farm land to see the cursed woman who poked and prodded her once a year. She knew the rewards she would reap following the trip should she behave, but she would rather make it known that she did not want to go back there, in case her distaste was a factor in the decision-making process.

Millie was nearly 10, covered in lumps that didn't hurt her, and she waddled a bit when she walked due to all the treats she got for being a clever girl. Her brother Bellen was a rescue; his name used to be longer, but mum had decided to shorten it. It was for the best. Bellen wasn't very clever and wasn't much younger than Millie, so he was unlikely to adapt to anything else. He was, however, a collie, and remained ever fascinated by doing circles around and around the sheep.

Millie was more sensible than that. Millie would trick Bellen into doing things for her that she didn't want to do under the guise of assisting Bellen. Yet Bellen was not being forced to see the lady in the funny-smelling building with the cats inside. If a cat had made it home, she knew it was no place for her.

As Millie entered the building, she monitored the situation. One door that shut behind her, three doors she could smell other animals behind, a lady in pink with a strong perfume behind the counter, and two other dogs....oh no. One was wearing the cone of shame. I'll give him a pity sociable sniff, I wouldn't want to be isolated in one of those, she thought.

As Millie plopped herself down beside her mum and waited for her name, she considered the pattern in what brought her here. Did she complain too much? Did she not give a clear indication as to how she liked to be loved and played with?

Her mum tried to reassure her, but the longer the wait, the more time she had to dwell on what was coming. "Millie", the lady with too much perfume said.

Oh dear, here we go.

The lady prodder was much more gentle than usual. It was almost pleasant. "So, how many other dogs does Millie see regularly?" she said.

I certainly can't answer you, Millie thought.

"I would say, other than her adoptive brother Bellen, maybe two or three? " Why is something wrong?" the dulcet tones of Millie's mother began, sounding concerned.

"I wouldn't say wrong, I would say exciting", the lady prodder said. "Miss Millie here is raising a volleyball team", the lady prodder was now showing her teeth. Was it something Mum had said? Do I show my teeth too?

Millie's mum looked horrified. Millie had no idea what was going on. She was not given her usual treats when she got home; instead, her mum scuttled off with a notepad and pen to calculate the costs and whether the farm could be home to the puppies. She decided they would be fine, and she daydreamed of more puppies like Millie frolicking in the fields. She wouldn't know what to do without Millie, and she knew her time would come one day. She considered this a blessing.

Millie decided to see what Bellen was eating and had his food instead.