Zeta’s leg

I was in a hotel with my colleagues working. We finished at 11pm. I was glad because I thought it was midnight but realised it was only 11pm. They said they were going off to a bar, so I said I’d go downstairs to my hotel room. I’d been moved to another room, so I went where I thought it was, but it was too dark to read the numbers on the door. I went inside and found the bedroom, but then wanted to double check I was in the right room. As I left the bedroom, the owner was there eating her supper. I explained who I was and what I was doing. She said “In all my years I’ve never met someone who wasn’t able to read the numbers on the door” I pointed out her sarcasm was annoying and we argued a little. She said she was going to write to my previous roommate and use the dictionary to prove you could write something that didn’t mean anything at all.

Later I was at home with my former colleague, Kirsty, and Zeta. Zeta went out the back to go to the toilet and Kirsty said she’d watch her. When I went out, Kirsty was on her phone distracted by something. I looked for Zeta but couldn’t see her. I eventually spotted her underneath some decking that had a big hole in it. She was lying on the floor, breathing but not moving. I went over and managed to coax her to get up. When she did, one of her legs was scrunched up. I checked and there was a big cut on it. I called Kirsty to come help me look at it. As we got Zeta up, the leg fell off. There was a clean whole that looked like a bone had come out of its socket. I was in tears and asking if we could phone the vet to see if they could reattach it. I woke up before we got her to the vet though.

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