The sighting of a killer whale (or orca) can be rare, but they do love to hunt and play in the waters between Vancouver and Seattle, so one of the activities we absolutely wanted to do (in addition to the harbour seaplane flight) was to go whale watching. Just South of Vancouver, in the quaint Historic fishing village of Steveston we hopped aboard our boat, and spent the day on the water cruising the coast looking for whales, other marine mammals and seabirds. The regular chug-chug-chug of the boat motor for a couple of hours lulled me into a meditate state as we sped our way over the State line from Vancouver, back down to the waters of Washington State. The shimmer of the water all dappled in the sunlight, the slow, measured tones of our guide and snuggling into my warm jacket against the sharp breeze off the coast was just enough to make me forget my worries, and zone out from all of my modern day dilemmas. Honestly, it needs to be prescribed on the NHS. Forget hauling yoga mats and sitting in sweaty concrete rooms with patterns trying to hide the utilitarian backdrop, just hop on a boat out from Vancouver. Not having much success closer to the British Columbia shores, our captain decided to head south past the Canadian/American border. Incredibly, the resident killer whales of the San Juan Islands are the most studied whales in the world; they, in turn, have observed humans for at least six thousand years. Stable family groups, called pods, represent several generations and include grandmothers (the pod leaders), adolescents, infants, and huge bulls. Each family member is recognized by its distinctive markings and can live as long as a human. Much of what is known about the orca whale's highly-organized social life has been learned from the resident pods in the San Juan Islands of Washington. Question: After the end of this story, the narrator is probably: === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- Tired
- Cold
- Relaxed
- not enough information
Relaxed

My daughter was away at college preparing for her final exams and nursing boards. I knew that my daughter's cat, who has been part of our family since my daughter was in second grade, was dying of a fast growing cancer. I couldn't tell my daughter because I didn't want to upset her and take her mind off her studies and impending graduation. Once our Vet determined that there was nothing further that could be done she showed me how to give pain meds and fluids at home to keep her comfortable in hopes that she would live long enough to allow my daughter to say goodbye after her graduation. The entire week I stayed with our cat around the clock. She had completely stopped eating and drinking and was slowly dying before my eyes. She slept most of the time except when I had to put the needle in between her shoulder blades to give her fluids. Then she would cry quietly and look at me with pleading eyes. Her breathing was becoming so shallow that I had to get close to her and listen to see if she was still alive. After a week of this I began to realize that the most unselfish thing I could do for this beautiful creature was to let her go. I wrapped her in her favorite blanket and and drove her to our Vets office after they had closed for the day. She was so skinny and frail but when I held her close she still purred. I thanked her for the 14 years she had been one of my daughter's closest companions and I held her as she took her last breath. I was afraid my daughter was going to be angry with me when I told her that i made the decision with out giving her time to say goodbye. She was sad but understood that I did the kindest thing I could have done for her kitty. Question: Where did the Mom take the cat? === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- To a doctor
- To the vet
- not enough information
- To the grocery

Answer: To the vet

The office smelled like money. Brand new carpet, somebody's expensive perfume still hanging in the air. The chairs in the waiting room are leather and the copy machine has a million attachments and there's pictures on the wall that I don't know what they're supposed to be. Made me ashamed of the shirt I was wearing, the cuffs all frayed and some of the buttons don't match. The secretary is a knockout and I figure Dennis has got to be getting in her pants. Red hair and freckles and shiny skin that looks like she just got out of a hot shower. A smile like she really means it. My name was in the book and she showed me right on in. Dennis shook my hand and put me in a chair that was slings and tube steel. The calendar next to his desk had a ski scene on it. Behind him was solid books, law books all in the same binding, also some biographies and political stuff. "Too bad you couldn't make the reunion," Dennis said. "It was a hoot." "I just felt weird about it," I said. I still did. It looked like he wanted me to go on, so I said, "I knew there'd be a bunch of y'all there that had really made good, and I guess I...I don't know. Didn't want to have to make excuses." "Hard to believe it's been twenty years. You look good. I still wouldn't want to run into you in a dark alley, but you look fit. In shape." "I got weights in the garage, I try to work out. When you're my size you can go to hell pretty quick. You look like you're doing pretty good yourself." Charlene is always pointing to people on TV and talking about the way they dress. With Dennis I could see for the first time what she's talking about. The gray suit he had on looked like part of him, like it was alive. When I think about him in grungy sweats back at Thomas Jefferson High School, bent double from trying to run laps, it doesn't seem like the same guy. Question: Where is the ski scene in the office? === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- On the calendar
- On a cover of a book
- On a picture on the wall
- not enough information
On the calendar