"He’s incredible," Leo whispered. "I have a pool. I have the time."
The question came from a young man named Leo, who was currently staring into a large galvanized tub where a sleek, brown shape was turning high-speed somersaults in the water. can you buy an otter
Leo took one last look at the sleek, wet head bobbing in the water. He reached out, and this time, Barnaby didn't chirp. He simply bumped Leo’s finger with a cold, wet nose before diving down to retrieve his stapler. "He’s incredible," Leo whispered
Leo reached out toward the tub, but the otter, a North American river species named Barnaby, popped his head up and gave a sharp, bird-like chirp that sounded suspiciously like a challenge. Leo took one last look at the sleek,
"Do you have a fish budget that rivals a five-star sushi bar?" Elias asked, leaning against the counter. "Barnaby eats twenty-five percent of his body weight every day. And he doesn't like the cheap stuff. If the trout isn't fresh, he’ll scream. Not a 'cute' scream, mind you. A scream that sounds like a tea kettle being murdered." Leo faltered. "I mean, I can buy fish."
Elias, the shop owner, sighed and set down his ledger. "The short answer, Leo, is that in this state, yes—with a Class III permit, six months of facility inspections, and about five thousand dollars for the initial 'acquisition.' The long answer? You don’t buy an otter. You sign up for a lifetime of chaos."
The chime of the bell above the door at "Exotic & Rare" was usually followed by the smell of cedar shavings and the squawk of a macaw . But today, Elias was met with a frantic splashing. "Can you buy an otter?"