The Unicorn in the Barn

Although why anyone would want to turn back into a human when you can be feline, I'm sure I don't know.

Calling the owners to tell them their pet died is the worst. She hates that, always feels like it's her fault.

We were taking good care of him; he shouldn't be dead. It wasn't fair.

I quickly looked down so they wouldn't notice me noticing them; suddenly, my silverware was very interesting.

Breaking promises is bad, but it should be double bad to break a promise to a unicorn.

You snooze, you lose.

Get your rear in gear and get on out here.

No rest for the wicked, even on Sundays.

Her skinny little legs hardly seemed strong enough to hold her up — she looked like a marshmallow on a bunch of toothpicks. Of course, I didn't say that to her.

Maybe it's just part of being a doctor — you're always tired.