"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."
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. can you buy an otter
"The internet doesn't show you the smell," Elias said bluntly. "Otter 'spraint'—that’s their dung—is a biological weapon. It’s oily, it’s everywhere, and it’s how they communicate. To an otter, your living room rug is just a giant stationary notepad for him to write 'I was here' in the most pungent way possible." "Do you have a fish budget that rivals a five-star sushi bar