My grandmother has had this little dog now on about 20 years.. I don't like the dog, the dog always hated me. . But I'm there yesterday morning and hear this noise.. I find the dog jumping around all fucked up because he stroked out or some shit, can't control his legs, poor thing is scared to death
So I get the dog calmed down and wrap him up and sit him down on a chair.. Long as I keep my hand on his side, he doesn't try to fight it and seems to calm down... Then he's whimpering and puking blood and god damn it was sad
I need to harden the fuck up though because I knew he had to be killed once I saw that he wasn't coming out of it, and yet I had to call vets until I found one who would kill him for me
Then we're on the way to the vet with grandma in the car and.. Apparently poor little grandma doesn't realize what we're taking him there for... So she gets me to promise to ask them to examine him to see if they can save him
I am such an angel- I mean to say, I know this thing is too fucked up to make it and I still asked them to examine him. Plus I was sitting there comforting him all morning until I could find someone to kill him for me.
I don't even like animals, especially most dogs, especially this dog. But the little fuck could sense that I was trying to help him. Man, I am such a fucking sweetheart.