Summary: You've opened a new veterinary clinic in Pittsburgh, and Robby is a very worried cat dad.
Based on this ask by anonymous
can i plz request a fluffy cat dad robby fic x veterinarian reader? i loved put your hands on me btw 💜💜
AN: Just a cute little two shot about Robby as a very worried cat dad (sorry, it's just canon at this point lmao)
***If you read this anonymous, please me know your comfort with spice!***
Sorry for any inaccuracies, I'm going by my own cat's vet visits, lmao
Your keys jingle as you unlock the front door of the clinic, Dirty Paws was small, tucked into a former hole-in-the-wall pizza place, but you had a decent number of clients and a team of receptionists and vet techs who were well versed in social media, so you had a pretty good presence on line - even if most of your followers were from out of state.
Nessa glances up at you as you close the door behind you, eyes dropping to the tray of iced coffee you'd somehow managed not to spill, and she hurries over to take it off of your hands.
"Hmm, your morning's booked, but you're afternoon is free," Nessa took a sip of her iced caramel macchiato, as she scrolls through the computer. "Oh, Dr. Johnson called, she was wondering if we would be willing to see a client of hers."
"Well, we're open late, and I guess this guy works long hours."
You nod, "sure, what kind of animal do they have?"
"He has a twelve week old domestic long haired kitten, their name is Triumph Bonneville," she snorts, and it's not the strangest pet name you'd heard in the year and a half you'd been open.
"Sure," Nessa grins, grabbing a chart.
"Okay," you nod, "I'll be in the back."
"I'll let you know when Mr. Michael's gets here."
The morning flies by, with Mr. Michael's and Maisie - a sweet golden lab, he had finally agree to get fixed after her second litter of surprised puppies. Her appointment was next week, but Mr. Michael's had brought the litter for their first check up and you could have died happy under a pile of labrador and German Shepherd puppies.
Next was Maud, with her Persian cat, Walter, for his annual pre-summer shave, he yowled through his entire appointment, and you were glad that you'd bought a pair of noise cancelling earplugs, and his goofy little face, all indigence as Nessa and Patrick wrangled him back into his crate made the near headache worth it for the instagram pictures alone.
You'd laughed out loud at the video over your lunch break, munching happily on your turkey sandwich as you scrolled through TikTok.
Things quieted down around six pm, and you sigh, glancing at the clock before glancing at Riley.
"What time is Triumph coming again?"
You were in the middle of charting when Riley opened the door to your office.
Your brow furrows, "who?"
You snort a laugh, "Triumph Bonneville?"
"Yes," Riley was actually breathless, and for a moment you're worried, before they fan their face, "god, his owner is fine." You roll your eyes, pushing yourself to your feet. "I put him in four!" They call and you wave over your shoulder, grabbing your iPad on the way out.
You knock on the door, and you hear something clatter as a voice mutters a curse, and you crack open the door to see a man crouched on the floor, scrambling to pick up the q-tips that have spilled across the floor.
"Oh, that's okay," you laugh, spotting the culprit, cowering in the sink.
"She tried to jump -" Triumph's owner explains, turning to look at you, he's still crouched on the floor, staring up at you, eyes crinkling as he ran a hand through his hair, and you swallow.
"Vets are scary," you laugh, and he tosses the dirty q-tips into the trash, "so, this is Triumph?" You say softly, reaching a hand towards the sink, and the kitten lets out a tiny hiss, as she presses into the corner. "I'm doctor (last name) -"
"Well, it might be easier if you hold her, at least until I'm ready to examine her."
"Right," Robby nods, "hey," he whispers, reaching down to scoop her into his hand. "You're okay," he whispers. "I found her outside -" he explains, "calling her Eighth & Penn just didn't feel right -"
You bite back a laugh, the Culture District was a nice neighborhood, and you can't help but wonder what he does for a living, as you glance down at your chart.
"It says here that you've had her for about four weeks?"
"Yeah," Robby nods, "she was a mess when I found her," he absently strokes Triumph's head, and she tilts her head up to stare at him. "She stayed with Dr. Johnson for a few days, until she was stable."
Triumph had been brought in, malnourished with a nasty eye and upper respiratory infection, but looking at the sweet little tabby now, you'd never know it.
"I wasn't going to adopt her, but uh, some of my colleagues kept going on about the 'cat distribution system' and it felt rude not to."
"Yeah, it sounds like she chose you," you smile, and his eyes crinkle as he looks down at Triumph.
"So, what seems to be the problem?"
"She's not eating, even her wet food."
"Are you sure she's not eating?" You wonder grabbing your stethoscope.
"Well, no, not while I'm at work - but it looks untouched."
"Okay," you nod, and Robby shifts Triumph so you can listen to her heartbeat, which is a little fast, but not unusual in a nervous kitten. "What do you do for work? If you don't mind me asking -"
"I'm an ER doctor at PTMC," he replies, pressing a kiss to Triumph's head, squishing her little ear, "I keep her in the bathroom, while I'm at work and I visit her during my lunch break - and she's been limping
"Oh," you make a note of her heart rate, before grabbing your pen light, to shine it into her eyes, "her pupils are equally reactive," you pull a small feather wand from your pocket, running in across Robby's arm to see her reaction, and her pupils immediately dialate as she reaches out to catch the pink feathers. "Good job, mama," you whisper, taking out your otoscope. "Her ears look good."
"I clean them before bed," Robby says and you don't miss the colour that flushes his cheeks.
"It's good to get into those habits early."
"I brush her as well, I think she likes it."
"Do you mind?" You ask, holding out your hands, and Robby shakes his head, and Triumph gives another half hearted hiss as you pick her up. "Oh," you gasp, "you're so scary," you press a kiss to her fluffy little head before carrying her over to the small scale next to the sink, and surprisingly, she doesn't fight you as you gently hold her on it. "Her weight looks good," you murmur, carefully palpitating her back legs and Triumph lets out an indignant meow as you lift her tail to confirm her sex.
"You said she's limping?"
"Did you notice when she started?"
"Yeah, it was on Monday, I thought maybe she jumped off the toilet wrong, but she was still limping when I came to check on her yesterday afternoon."
"It was a good idea to bring her in, just in case of a sprain."
"Right," Robby nods, eyes focused on Triumph who was batting at the end of your ponytail.
"I'm going to put her down to see how she walks on her own," you crouch down, placing Triumph carefully on the floor, as you watch her scamper over to Robby, and he stares down at her in surprise. "What leg -?"
"Her back, left," he murmurs, scooping her up, to pass her into your hands, and you carefully check her left leg, testing it's flexibility as well as if there's any paint at the joint, and Triumph just stands there, purring.
"Well, I'd have to do an x-ray to be sure, but she doesn't appear to be in any pain -"
"Okay, if you'll give me a minute, I'll be right back."
You carefully shoulder open the door into the back hall, where the x-ray machine sits next to the surgery table, Riley looks up.
"Fine," you reply, "at least I think. Robby says she's limping but she's not showing any signs of pain or distress -"
"Are you a big faker?" Riley wonders, reaching out to take Triumph into her arms, "are you making daddy worried for nothing?"
"Better safe than sorry," you reply, and Triumph is easily handled for the x-ray and you press another kiss to her cheek before you bring her back into the exam room.
"How was she?" Robby wonders, standing up.
"An angel," you coo, putting her x-rays up on the illumination box, "everything looks normal, now that's not to say that she didn't sustain a mild sprain from jumping off of the toilet or into the bathtub but it's nothing to worry about."
You nod, biting back a smile, "now, have there been any recent changes to your lifestyle?"
"Yes, I recently returned to work."
"Well ... It's possible that Triumph might be displaying attention seeking behaviour -"
“No,” you laugh, "she's young."
"Could she be doing the same thing with her food?"
"Yes, is she still using the litter box?"
"Yes," Robby rubs a hand over his face, "your an expensive little brat," he mutters affectionately. "So, what's your advice, doc?"
"Hm, well part of it could be boredom, due to a lack of mental stimulation, there's electronic toys and puzzles. It could also be due to loneliness - I've found most cats do well in pairs. So they have someone else to play with while you're out of the house."
"Jesus," he shakes his head, "how - how do I go about getting another cat? I assume another kitten is ideal -"
"Or a younger cat," you shrug, "I'm partnered with a few rescues, who would be happy to find you and Triumph a new friend." You grab a couple of business cards for Whisker Wonderland and Nose 2 Tail Cat Rescue, handing them to him. "We're right in the middle of kitten season, so you'll have plenty of kittens to choose from."
Robby is staring down at Triumph, "you little shit," he laughs, "well thank you. Sorry for wasting your time -" he holds out his hand and your heart jolts as you take it.
"Oh, not at all. I'm happy to help."
"Amira was right about you," Robby murmurs.
"Oh, thank you," you flush under his praise, "if you want to head back to reception, Riley can help you settle the bill."
"Sure," he squeezes your hand before finally letting go, "thanks again."
"Take care," you wave, backing out of the room to find Riley. "Only charge him half for the x-ray."
Riley gives you a knowing look, "I told you he was fine."
"No, that's not - being a first time pet owner is stressful."
"Whatever you say, boss!" Riley pauses before opening the door, "I can always get his number."
You take a deep breath, "thank you Riley!"
They laugh out loud and you take a deep breath, glancing down at your hand, and you can feel the ghost of Robby's fingers against yours.
"No," you mutter, "don't be stupid."
You met new clients every day, it wasn't like this would be any different.
