Nick walked past the office seven times before he finally got the courage to go inside. Nothing but the street number and a black sign with gold letters indicated anything special about the nondescript entrance squeezed between a fur salon and a dry cleaner. Nick read the sign: Mammal Sexual Compatibility Services, Helping love grow, one interspecies relationship at a time. The fox took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

The bored antelope at the front desk handed him a clipboard. "Please fill this out. The doctor will see you shortly."

Nick was thankful for the empty waiting room as he sat and examined the form. The questions started out simply enough: name, age, and species of you and your partner had been on dozens of forms he'd seen before. Your preferred gender and preferred coupling method(s) were also totally understandable, but describe your current physical genital anatomy was a bit odd, since Nick didn't know what to write besides male. Then the questions got even more oddly specific, until the fox skimmed ahead to find several he'd need Judy and a ruler to answer accurately.

Nick finished filling out the form as best he could and waited until the doctor, a raccoon, arrived to introduce himself and escort him to an examination room. After consulting a computer and reading the form, the doctor pulled on rubber gloves and said, "We'll start with some measurements. Please remove your pants-"

Nick stuttered out, "Can't we just assume I'm, uhh, average sized?"

The doctor laughed. "You needn't worry, Mr. Wilde. You don't have anything I haven't seen before. I mean, just yesterday I sized a mouse for a full body latex suit so he could pleasure his much larger partner by inserting himself-"

Nick interrupted the raccoon with a strangled noise. "Unghhh…. You know what, it's okay. I believe you."

Nick still didn't move to strip off his clothes, so the raccoon shrugged. "We'll just assume average dimensions for now." Nick nodded, and the raccoon used a tongue depressor to point at a diagram of male fox genitalia on the computer. Tracing up the side of the shaft, he said, "First, we'll make incisions starting at the base, to trim-"

Nick interrupted, his voice an octave higher than usual. "Wait, what?"

The doctor smiled. "You needn't worry. You won't experience any diminished sensitivity. The post-coital knotting, however, won't be possible-"

Nick's eyes bulged out of his head. "You know what doc, maybe you can give me some, I dunno... brochures or something? So I can think this over some more?"

The raccoon nodded. "Of course. I'll include our standard packet outlining all the other options as well."

That evening Nick was so engrossed while reading a booklet the doctor had given him, Bunnilingus for Beginners, that he didn't notice when Judy quietly dropped by unannounced. Later, he was fairly certain her flying tackle had dislocated his shoulder, and Nick was worried his tongue might never be the same again.