Vilex

Terrible luck, to be mauled by a jaguar.

But strikingly good luck to have access to a jaguar surgeon! She gently adjusted the angle of my head, remarking on my "giraffe like" features. I knew that all animal injury surgeon specialists were like this, seeing animals in every person they operated on. She was the real deal. I was in good hands.

She walked off for a bit, and out came the jaguar. And wouldn't you know it, she got mauled too. Oh she didn't look so bad, but there was no more jaguar surgeon for me, she needed to find one of her own now.

I didn't remember being mauled by a jaguar, come to think of it. How did that even happen? Why was this jaguar just roaming about the zoo? Did it jump the moat? Aren't jaguars in cages?

I guess it didn't matter, because here I was, bleeding to death. It was an amusing fate honestly. I almost laughed.

Then, a crazy idea.

What if instead of a jaguar surgeon I got a regular surgeon? What was so jaguar specific about this injury anyway!?!

I felt like a genius! I called out for help. I begged some folks nearby to call an ambulance! But they insisted that the jaguar surgeon was out of commission. How was I to be helped without her? I tried to reason with them, but they couldn't understand. This was pointless.

I was inching forward on my stomach now. There was no pain, but I was getting very weak. I dragged myself away, and happened to find my father sitting there on a bench. Surely, my old man would react quickly to save his son!

I begged him, call a surgeon, any surgeon (covered by my insurance, please)! He looked confused. Surely this was a job for the jaguar surgeon?

Truly, this was not a world worth living in. I resigned myself to my death.