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I should have felt insulted by Marge’s words, but frankly she was right: blabbing is what we do! But then Tex looked me in the eye, and I looked him in the eye, and he smiled. And I don’t know why, but at that moment I felt slightly reassured that this man knew what he was doing and that he could help me. After all, he was a doctor, right? He might not be a vet yet, but he knew about anatomy. And since human anatomy probably isn’t all that different from that of other mammals, maybe he would be able to save my life from this sharp and pointy diamond!

“Okay, here’s what we’ll do,” said Tex, as he picked me up and carried me over to his examination table. “First we’re going to take a picture to see what we’re dealing with here.”

“A picture?” I asked a little weakly. “You’re going to take my picture?”

“Now is not the time to take pictures for your Facebook page, Tex!” Harriet cried.

“I think Tex is referring to an X-ray,” Marge explained.

And indeed he was. He hooked me up to some kind of machine hovering over me, and moments later said,“Don’t move, Max.” So I kept perfectly still while he did his thing.

“The X-ray machine was a big investment,” Marge explained to her daughter, “but it’s definitely paying off now.”

“I only use it for small stuff,” said Tex.

“I’m not small stuff, Tex!” I cried, but of course he didn’t understand.

“It saves time. Sending a person to a radiologist and then waiting for the results…” He was studying a special kind of laptop now, and finally said, “I see it. It’s still in his stomach.”

Odelia and Marge crowded around Tex and studied the images.“I seem to remember the Pink Lady is not a sharp-edged stone,” said Odelia. “I don’t think it’ll do any damage.”

“Plus, it’s round,” said Tex. “It should pass through quite easily.”

“So what do you suggest?” asked Marge.

“I think you should give him bread and a few spoons of milk. The bread will wrap itself around the diamond and protect the stomach, and the milk will induce a mild case of diarrhea, which will help purge the stone from his system. You’ll need to monitor his stool to retrieve the diamond—better wear plastic gloves when you do.”

“And if he doesn’t pass the diamond?” asked Odelia, stroking me gently.

“If it doesn’t pass, it will need to be removed surgically.”

“Surgically!” I cried. “What do you mean, surgically?!”

“He means he’ll have to operate,” Odelia explained.

“He’ll have to cut you open like a fish, Max,” said Brutus.

“But I don’t want to be cut open like a fish!”

“Brutus, don’t scare Max,” said Harriet.

“I’m just telling him what’s going to happen so that he’s prepared. It’s better that he knows going in. Chances of survival are probably fifty percent,” he said. “Though to be honest it can go both ways.”

“Brutus!” Harriet snapped.

“All right, all right. Just trying to help.”

“Well, stop helping.”

“Who’s going to perform the procedure?” asked Odelia. “You, Dad?”

“Not me personally, no,” said Tex. “I—I’m not qualified to operate on Max.” He sighed. “I’m not actually a vet, you see. And if anything went wrong…”

“I know, honey,” said Marge, rubbing her husband on the back. “But I still think you did a fine job here.” She gave me a smile. “How are you feeling, Max?”

“I guess I’m okay,” I said. “As long as Tex won’t cut me open like a fish.” They’d turned the thick laptop in my direction, and it was a little weird to be able to look inside myself—plenty weird, in fact. And there it was: the Pink Lady. It was just lying there, gently reposing on a bed of stomach, and not doing any cutting or drilling or whatever horrible picture Brutus had conjured up.

“You’ll be fine,” said Odelia. “You’ll poop out the stone and that’ll be the end of it.”

I glanced up at Tex.“You really are Dr. Poolittle,” I said reverently. “Thank you, sir.”

After Marge had translated my words to the doctor, he frowned.“Dr. Poolittle? What is he talking about?”

“I came up with that,” Dooley said. “It’s a cool nickname, don’t you think?”

“No, Dooley,” said Harriet. “It’s a very silly nickname.”

“I like it,” said Odelia with a grin. “It’s very catchy.”

“Dr. Poolittle,” Tex murmured, rolling the words around his tongue. He didn’t seem overly pleased with the moniker. “Is that what Hampton Cove’s pet population is calling me?”

“They will now,” I said, as I gave the man a mild head bunt.

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