10/27/2026 from Daily Jokes
#22815
Arthur was a devoted pet owner, and his tiny, fuzzy hamster, Nibbles, had been acting a bit sluggish lately. Worried sick,
Arthur rushed Nibbles to the local emergency vet clinic. The veterinarian, a stern man with thick glasses and a no-nonsense attitude, gave the little creature a quick once-over, checked its pulse, and shook his head sadly.
“I’m sorry, Arthur,” the vet said grimly. “Nibbles has passed on. He is dead.”
Arthur was stunned. He couldn’t believe it. Nibbles had been eating sunflower seeds just that morning! “Are you sure?”
Arthur asked, his voice trembling. “I’m not happy with this diagnosis. I need a second opinion.”
The vet sighed, rolled his eyes, but agreed. He walked to the back of the office, gave a sharp whistle, and in strolled
Barnaby, a massive, slobbering Labrador Retriever. Barnaby nudged the still hamster around with his wet nose, sniffed it deeply from head to tail, and then let out a heavy, mournful sigh before shaking his head slowly.
“There,” the vet said, crossing his arms. “Even the dog confirms it. Your hamster is dead.”
Arthur was still unconvinced. This felt too easy. “No, no, I need a third opinion. Something more… scientific.”
The vet groaned, opened the back door, and in bounded Mittens, a sleek, judgmental tabby cat. Mittens jumped onto the examination table, stared down at the hamster with intense, predatory focus for a full two minutes, blinked slowly, and then turned away with a dismissive flick of its tail.
“It’s definitely dead, sir,” the vet concluded, closing the file. “Three independent assessments agree.”
Convinced by the sheer weight of the evidence, Arthur slumped his shoulders. “Alright. How much do I owe you?”
The vet handed him a printed invoice. “That will be $1,000, please.”
Arthur’s jaw dropped. He sputtered, nearly choking on his own outrage. “$1,000?! Just to tell me my hamster is dead?
That’s outrageous!”
The vet adjusted his glasses, pointed to the line items on the bill, and replied with perfect, deadpan professionalism:
“Well, sir, there’s my initial diagnosis, the Lab report, and the Cat scan.”
