#masoncollins

𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐛 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫,  hud pushes through the clinic’s spit-shined doors,  careful not to jostle the snoozing sack of potatoes in his arms.  the kid stirs only slightly as he deposits him into a chair beside an affronted woman and her equally affronted pomeranian,  incapacitated by the triple scoop of bubblegum ice cream they’d stopped for on the way.  today’s sugar high was a fleeting yet chaotic thing  --  just twenty minutes of pure mayhem before ollie fell asleep in hud’s backseat mid-sentence.  children really were terrifying.

breezing past the front desk,  he slips into mason’s office with little regard for whether he was with a four-legged client.  thankfully,  he’d caught his cousin between appointments.  the vet was always double-booked this time of year,  hence why hud had once again found himself on carpool duty.  “  i know you said no stops,  but the kid insisted.  quite the negotiator,  that one.  i worry you’ve got a future politician on your hands.  ”  he ditches ollie’s backpack and makes a beeline for the treat jar,  pocketing a few milkbones for the mutt  --  payment,  he decides,  for his chauffeur services.  “  anyway,  precious cargo’s in the waiting room,  probably drooling on mrs. nelson’s shoulder.  my work here is done.  ”