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A Typical Wednesday

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All Trixie wanted to do was relax. To soak in her bathtub and forget the stress that had built up over a triple shift at the hospital. Between trying to assist Anvil related injuries, and explosion victims, she had her hands full since the ACME Expo was in town. But the shift was over and done with. No more yowling and neighing coyote and horse patients- no more Animanaics-like-toons on fire, just her, a bottle of expensive wine- a bubble bath and classical music. The female coyote had slipped her body into the aching, agonizing tenderness of the water’s edge and closed her eyes for nearly six point five seconds when it happened:



"Mooooooooooom?" Cried a rowdy Michigan-accented voice from somewhere in the depths of her home. Some loud, fleeting voice that echoed from the walls and bounced across edges and angles until it twisted cruelly into her lazy ears. Maybe if she ignored it…



“MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM?” Trixie winced quietly. No, no no, not now. Why now?! Couldn’t it have waited at least ten minutes?! At least five?! At least until her lips grazed the cherry stained crystal of her wine glass? She squeezed her eyes shut. Oh please just give her these few moments of



“MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!?” The illusion shattered. The voice had increased to a feverish pitch and rumbled through the house at a nerve crushing octave. Trixie ground her fangs together.



“WHAT?! WHAT DO YOU WANT?! ……Sweetie?” She finally yowled. It was Coyoteas calling for her. Barking with some irrepressible squeal that illustrated her relaxing evening was about to go up in a blaze of smoke.



“Cerb did something STUPID.” Came the guffaw of a reply. She had been painfully accurate. She knew her pups. She sank down into the bubbles of the pink glistening water and squeezed her eyes shut.



“…What...?”



“He shot himself out of a cannon we built and into the wall of Uncle Whinny’s stall. Now Cerb’s cussing some words that I’ve never heard of.” Replied the voice after a few seconds of hesitation- as if Coyoteas had something to do with his brother’s accident- which he no doubt did. Trixie winced again. The bath was no longer relaxing. Had the situation been less intense, she was tempted to ignore it completely, but her instinct was announcing that Coyoteas was telling her all of this for a reason. She sighed a horrible, miserable sigh.



“…do you see bone?” She asked nervously. There was a few seconds of pause.



“Hang on, lemme check. Yeah. There’s bone. And EVEN more cussing.”



“……..I’ll be down in a minute. “ Trixie sighed. The bath was over. She was going to end up back at the hospital. Again. “WHY would he do something like that?”



“Cause he was acting stupid. He goes from smart to stupid whenever he sees that roadrunner.”



“Your brother is not stupid when he sees Meeper Runner, Coyoteas.” The frustration in her voice was growing. Like a bubbling plume of smoke raising in a volcano of fury. She gripped the sides of the tub, hoisting herself out and into a towel.



“Is now!”



Trixie sighed with a quiet whimper and covered her face with a palm. Her kids were going to be the end of her. So far, Wednesday had rolled around right on time. She wrapped her fingers around her wine bottle and dragged herself out of the room to tend to her pups.

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