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Real Paleontologists Sweat

Doc Williams thumped the belly of the triceratops affectionally known as Pokey. “You’re all done, big fella. Now quit trying to play with the big boys before you get seriously hurt.” He warned.

Pokey snorted and started to lumber away. Then he stopped and turned back to look at the doctor, before deliberately letting loose a mournful moo. While it wasn’t quite the same sound that earth-cows made, it was amazingly close.

The middle-aged dinosaur veterinarian used a sleeved forearm to wipe stinging sweat away from his eyes. He didn’t mind the dense humidity any more than he minded working so far away from home. There was nowhere else he could work with such fantastic beasts. Thanks to the Cloud protocols, dinosaurs could only be bred and raised off Earth.

He grinned and shook his head as he watched Pokey roll along. Even though the dinosaur was a juvenile by triceratops standards, he was twice as large as the cars back home and much more magnificent. This work was more than amazing, it was a dream come true.

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