A veteran veterinarian might have vamoosed—but Watts had to help any sick animal....
t precautions: he'd forgotten to secure the gear fastenings, and he'd neglected to rope the smaller cage to the larger.
The bear, startled by the prick of the needle when Oliver gave him a sizable injection of nembutal, reacted with a frantic struggling that reversed the action of the unsecured winch and forced the two cages apart. The door burst open, sprung by the sudden pressure.
The bear stood free.
A considerable amount of legitimate excitement could be injected into such a moment by reporting that the bear, at last in a position to revenge itself for past indignities, leaped upon its tormentor with a blood-freezing roar and that Oliver, a fragile pygmy before that near-ton of slavering fury, escaped only by a hair or was annihilated on the spot.
Neither circumstance developed, however, for the reason that the bear was already feeling the effects of the anesthetic given it and wanted nothing so much as a cool dark place where it might collapse in privacy. And Oliver, caught co
A henpecked Florida veterinarian has some excitement come into his life when a millionaire asks him to cure his polar bear of convulsions. Only to find out that the millionaire had more than just a polar bear.
An amiable story, not very serious, that sort of meanders around until it ends.