"There's a good, Jeffy Boy, eat up the popcorn ball," said foster Ma'am. She had a name, but Jeffy Boy seemed to only be able to think of her as Ma'am.
A big meaty paw closed on his hairy back grabbing his fur. Jeffy Boy turned his head. It was Rex.
"Why does Jeffy Boy get a treat?" snarled Rex.
"You got a treat when you got fixed, Rex," Ma'am said.
Fixed? thought Jeffyboy with his mouth filled with sticky popcorn. He wasn't broken. Something nagged at his mind, there was another meaning for fixed, wasn't there?
CRUNCH! CRUNCH!
Popcorn good.
"Oh, yeah?" Rex said scratching his head and then scratching his empty ball sac. He whined softly, and relaxed his grip on Jeffy Boy. He gently patted Jeffy Boy's head.
While Jeffy Boy chowed down on the popcorn ball, foster mother clipped a leash to his collar. Then she clipped one to Rex's collar too.
"Okay, boy's time to go!"
The car ride was uneventful. Rex rode with his head sticking out of the window as usual. Jeffy Boy would take a bite of his popcorn ball, and shove his head under Rex's to peer out of the car window, and enjoy the rushing wind, then he'd dart back to the popcorn ball for another bite. He was surprised that Rex hadn't taken the popcorn ball from him, but maybe Rex wasn't feeling well. That must be why they were going to the vet's.
He suddenly remembered the Chronivac. Maybe he should? Mm, popcorn ball. Oooh, window.. Now what was it about the Chronivac?
There were an assortment of Pet People in the waiting room. Jeffy boy stared at the Parrotboy squatting on his master's shoulder. The master slumped under the weight of his pet. There were a couple other dog boys, and one catboy. Rex glared at the catboy, Jeffy Boy tried to glare too.
"Ah, Ms. Cane, we're ready for Jeffy Boy," said the receptionist.
Ma'am stood up and led Jeffy Boy and Rex through the door to the hallway that led to the exam rooms.
Jeffy Boy found himself up on metal table. He just realized that he no longer was wearing pants or underwear, as his bare balls touched the cold metal, as he squatted on the table. Fixed? Oh, that kind of fixed? No, no. no.