Fritz wriggled his toes as his mother drove them both to the North Eco Mall. His father's sandals were too short, but they'd been the best idea he could think of. It was either this or let his mom pick out the shoes, and neither of them knew his current size.
His dad had gotten home just after lunchtime, and had been cheerfully amused by Fritz's predicament. He'd also asked Fritz how he could eat seconds at every meal and still have four extra snacks per day without either growing out or up. Fritz hadn't had a good answer to that and was even more embarrassed that he hadn't noticed.
Heck, lunch had been less than an hour ago and he was already munching through a box of granola bars his mother had brought along. Sheesh.
Luckily, the mall wasn't too busy. North Eco had shops for lots of different species, and unlike some of the downtown plazas they'd been very careful to put herbivore and carnivore food shops on opposite sides, with clothing and other stores in the middle. Fritz's mother parked outside Grazers, one of the better herbivore buffets in the area, and walked with him into the mall.
Fritz stopped by a bench just outside of Paws, one of the major shoe department store chains, and shot his mother a questioning look. She shrugged back.
"It will be expensive dear, but big box stores don't carry shoes in your size. I learned that with Pete when he was your age, and I doubt it's changed in just a few years."
Fritz nodded and headed in. A young cat in the store uniform was just sending a bat off with a pair of very bright red high heels. He waved Fritz over and gave his dad's poor overfilled sandals a look.
"Jeez, kid," the cat shook his head. "You know you can buy new shoes more often then that right? I mean I bet your poor toes are turning blue under all that fuzz."
Fritz decided not to correct the cat about who's shoes he'd outgrown (though technically he'd outgrown three pairs without noticing; his, his dad's and his brother's). He just nodded and plopped down on the fitting bench. With a grateful sigh, he pried the tight footwear off.
The sales cat hustled off and came back with a foot scale and a large box. To Fritz's confusion, he opened the box first and set a shoe next to Fritz's foot. The shoe was clearly too small. The cat gave a low wistle.
"Dang. Okay, kid. These are the biggest rabbit shoes we have in stock. I mean, we can probably measure and order some special, but it's gonna take a bit for them to come in and they will NOT be cheap."
"Excuse me," Fritz's mother cut in. "I was wondering if, well. What about kangaroo sizes?"
The sales cat frowned, but Fritz thought maybe he was thinking it over based on how his tail was swishing. The cat nodded slowly.
"That might work. Rabbit feet tend to be a lot wider than roo feet, but we might have some extra wide shoes in stock. One moment please."
Eventually Fritz was presented with one pair of shoes that were a bit too long but were wide enough not to hurt. He stood and tested them out, and they felt fine. Pricey, but much faster and less expensive than custom-ordering rabbit shoes.
"Plus," his mother said, "they have some growing room."
'Oh no,' Fritz thought as he felt his ears go flat, 'don't even joke about that. I've already practically outgrown my species, that's way more than enough thanks.'