The fat, heartless, callous veterinarian asked, “So, who is going to pay for this?”
The lady and her girlfriend turned to look at each other, each face splattered with a look of disbelief. The lady turned back and said, “I don’t know. We just found her this way. She needs help. Help her.”

It was late winter, March 04, 2004. The lady and her girlfriend were driving down a busy road when they came across a dog in the middle of the street. They pulled over to help. The dog hadn’t been hit or run-over, but she was injured. She could barely walk or stand. An animal trap was snapped around a back leg. She was a gentle dog, and with the help of a young man that had also stopped, they put the dog in the lady’s car. The vet’s office was just across the street.

“But someone has to be responsible for the services,” the vet replied in a curt tone.

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