“I don’t know what happened to you,” I told him.
His eyes stayed on mine.
“But you’re not staying here.”
The nearest veterinary clinic that could handle emergency imaging was almost forty minutes away.
I called before pulling onto the highway.
“I have an emaciated male dog, maybe shepherd or Lab mix. He can’t stand. Possible pelvic or spinal trauma.”Shop Dog Food
The receptionist sounded tired.
“We’re closing soon.”
“He may not have until morning.”
Silence.
Then a different voice came onto the line.
“Is he conscious?”
“Yes.”
“Breathing normally?”
“As far as I can tell.”
“Any active bleeding?”
“No.”
“Bring him.”
I drove faster than I normally would, but not fast enough to throw him around the back seat.
At every stoplight I checked the mirror.
His eyes were almost always open.
Watching me.
“You’re okay,” I kept saying, though I did not know if that was true.
