#that the Fords do while assuming Stan and Angie are just normal birbs

[thelastspeecher]

Vet Visit

...You guys wanted it, so here ya go.  In the Phoenix Enchantment AU, Angie (”Pele”) has been displaying some odd behavior, and Fidds and Ford decide it warrants a visit to the vet for both her and Stan (”Prometheus”).  No one is happy by the end of the day.

               “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Fiddleford asked, following Ford into the attic.  Ford set down the large pet carrier he’d just purchased.  At the small thump it made, Angie and Stan poked their heads up from their spot in the nest.

               “You were the one who was concerned about Pele being ill,” Ford pointed out.  He opened the pet carrier.  “Although, to be honest, we should have done this long ago.  Prometheus and Pele were injured when we found them.”  Angie and Stan looked at each other, confused.  “No harm no foul, I suppose.  At least we’re taking them in now.”

               “Taking us where?” Stan chirped.

               “If your suspicions are correct, Fiddleford, and Pele is preparing to lay, getting the both of them checked over by a licensed veterinarian will help ensure the brooding goes smoothly, and that the chick or chicks will be healthy.”

               “Did he just say somethin’ about you laying?  Like egg laying?” Stan asked Angie.  

               “Wha- don’t listen to him!  I think I’d know if I was goin’ to lay an egg, Stanley,” Angie burbled.  “Fidds is just bein’ cautious.  It’s in his nature.”

               “Yeah, and he also grew up on a farm. Seems like he can recognize that sorta stuff.”

               “I grew up on that same farm.  Relax, darlin’.  My behavior’s nothin’.  I’m just tired.”

               “…Okay.  I believe you.”  Stan blinked. “Wait, did Ford say he was takin’ us to the vet?”

               “The fastest way would be to simply pick them up,” Ford protested as Fiddleford placed a treat in the back of the pet carrier.  

               “That’s also the likeliest way fer us to get hurt.  Those talons and beaks ain’t fer openin’ letters, Stanford.” Fiddleford stood up again and glanced over at the nest.  “We don’t need to convince ‘em both to get in, anyways.  If one of ‘em gets in, the other one probably will, too.”

               “Prometheus tends to be more food-motivated,” Ford said slowly.

               “But Pele’s been cleanin’ her bowl out an awful lot lately,” Fiddleford said. “And if she gets in, Prometheus is sure to go after her, while she might stay behind if he goes in.  If only ‘cause she hasn’t been movin’ round much lately.”

               “Fidds, don’t bother,” Angie clucked.  “I ain’t really an animal, I- is that a peach slice?”  She hopped onto the edge of the nest, staring intently at the fruit in Fiddleford’s hand. He held it out towards her.

               “Come on, pretty hen,” Fiddleford said cajolingly.  “I know ya like these.  There’s even more in that there box.”  Angie glanced at the pet carrier.  

               “Don’t do it, Angie,” Stan hissed. Angie stepped back into the nest.

               “I ain’t yer pet, Fiddleford.  I can’t be bribed with fruit so easy.”  Fiddleford dropped his hand.

               “Shoot.”

               “I’ll get the gloves,” Ford said.  “We should have done it my way from the beginning.  It won’t make them happy, but it will get the job done.”  He headed back downstairs.  Angie looked at Stan.

               “No matter what, we’re goin’ to end up at the vet’s,” Angie burbled.  “If we cave in to this, it’s faster, no one gets hurt, and we get some food out of it.”  Stan sighed.

               “You’re right.  Those nerds ‘ll do whatever they can to get us ‘examined’. Let’s just do it the easy way,” Stan croaked.  Angie abruptly took off and landed in front of the pet carrier.  She looked expectantly at Fiddleford.

               “Give me that one first!” she crowed.  Fiddleford placed the peach slice at her feet.  Angie picked it up daintily with her beak, then casually walked into the carrier.  Stan groaned, but took off as well and followed her inside the crate. Fiddleford promptly closed the door.

               “Got ‘em!” Fiddleford said proudly.  “Time to take these magical birds to the vet.”

----- 

               Fiddleford opened the pet carrier.  

               “Come on out, it’s okay,” Fiddleford said gently.  Stan reluctantly exited the carrier, more to reassure Angie than anything else.  On the ride over, Fiddleford and Ford had discussed in length what they were going to ask the vet, and most of it involved her.  Needless to say, she was even more uncomfortable about being “examined” than he was.  Stan climbed on top of the carrier and let out a low trill.  Angie poked her head out, her feathered crest rising in caution. “Pele, no need to be nervous. Everything’s fine, honey,” Fiddleford soothed.  Angie took a step outside the carrier.

               “What did you say they were?” the vet asked Ford.  

               “Show-quality breed golden eagles,” Ford answered.

               “Never seen one before,” the vet remarked.

               “They’re rather rare,” Fiddleford said.  “The larger one is the female, named Pele.  The one with all the pretty feathers is the male, Prometheus.”

               “And they’re a mated pair?”

               “Yes.”

               “All right,” the vet mumbled.  She looked up from her clipboard.  “So, any particular reason for visiting today?”

               “We think they could use a checkup, since it’s been a while,” Ford said. The vet nodded.  “And, um, Pele’s been displaying some odd behavior recently. Fiddleford thinks it might indicate she’ll lay an egg soon.”

               “What sort of behavior?” the vet asked.  

               “She’s been buildin’ up the nest a lot, and won’t leave it often,” Fiddleford answered.  “I’ve also seen her flying less and less, and eatin’ more ‘n usual.”  The vet nodded.

               “That could indicate she will have a brood.  Or she could simply be agitated for some reason, or ill.”

               “How can you tell the difference?  Barring waiting until an egg is laid, that is,” Ford asked.  

               “Bring Pele over here, and I can show you,” the vet said.  Angie’s eyes widened.  Before she could react in any other way, however, Fiddleford had picked her up and was carrying her over to the examination table.  Stan let out a distressed squawk.  

               “Angie!”

               “Her mate might try to intervene.  Put him back in the cage,” the vet instructed.  Ford abruptly grabbed Stan and stuffed him back in the pet carrier, narrowly avoiding a bite through the bars.  Stan squawked again.  Fiddleford set Angie down on the examination table.  The vet took a hold of her and placed her on her back.  Angie let out a screech.  

               “She don’t like this none,” Fiddleford said in a nervous tone.  

               “No, she wouldn’t,” the vet agreed.  “Anyways, one way to tell a female will lay an egg is that her vent, or cloaca, will dilate.”

               “Her vent being-” Ford started.

               “Right here,” the vet said.  Angie squawked in protest.  Stan threw himself against the bars of the carrier.

               “Lady, ask first!” Stan screeched.

               “Now, it doesn’t look dilated, but that doesn’t mean she won’t lay,” the vet continued, ignoring Stan.  “It could just be too soon for her body to prepare for the laying process.”

               “So this is something we can check ourselves, at home?” Ford asked.  

               “Yes.  And while she’s on the table, I can do the rest of the examination.”  Angie croaked, upset.  The vet stroked Angie’s head.  “Don’t worry, Pele, you’ll get a nice treat at the end, for behaving so well.”

----- 

               Ford placed the pet carrier in the attic.  The moment he opened the door, Stan and Angie rocketed out.  Angie landed in the nest, glaring at Ford. Stan landed on the stand with the food dishes and grabbed a large walnut.  

               “Those treats the vet gave us weren’t nearly filling enough,” Stan chirped as he nibbled at his walnut.  “Kinda expected more after being humiliated like that.”  Normally, he would have been in the nest with Angie, trying to comfort her.  But, understandably, she wanted to be alone at the moment.

               “The second Ford gets close to me, he’s goin’ to regret askin’ ‘bout the egg thing,” Angie hissed.  Stan looked over.  Ford was approaching the nest.  

               Uh-oh.  Not a good idea, Sixer.  

               “Stanford, let ‘em be,” Fiddleford said in a tired voice. “They’ve been through a lot, and Pele especially is in a rotten mood.  Can’t really blame her.”

               “I want to try what the vet showed us,” Ford said.  He reached for Angie.  She bit down, hard.  Ford yelped and immediately retracted his hand.  He covered it with his other hand, attempting to staunch the flow of blood. “Pele!”

               “I warned ya,” Fiddleford muttered.  Angie hissed fiercely.  

               “That’s what ya get fer havin’ the vet violate me like that, and then tryin’ to do the exact same thing!  Back off, or I’ll get yer other hand, too!” Angie screeched.  Ford stared at her.  “I ain’t yer pet, Stanford Pines.  Or yer experiment.  Stop treatin’ me like it!”  Stan laughed.

               “Damn, Angie,” Stan crowed. Angie ruffled her feathers, trying to hide her pride.  

               “Very well, Pele, I- I’ll leave you alone,” Ford said.  He looked at his injured hand and winced.  “Fiddleford, I think we’ll have to take a trip to the emergency room.”  

               “Thought so.  That bite looked like one you’d need stitches fer.  Come on, let’s get goin’.”