Harry woke up beside her the next morning, and he felt really guilty and remorseful. He, of all people, had slept with one of his patients. Right there in the clinic!
He had brought a case of Blue Beaver Beer. She refused to drink any, preferring water. Harry downed most of it himself. “Probably why she didn’t laugh at my jokes, I was drunk,” he thought.
“Don’t worry about it,” he told himself. “You’re not the first medical practitioner to sleep with one of his patients.You’re both single and you drank almost a case of beer, so try to get on with the day.”
And yet, there was that tiny voice in his head, the one that filled him with guilt and that terrible sense of wrongdoing.
The one that said, “But Dave, you are a vetrenarian!”