“At the service of care,” I said.
My veterinary assistant, Sarah, was already running off to get some towels.
The dog followed us to the clinic door, but he didn’t cross the threshold. He stayed outside and waited patiently.
I placed the puppy on the heated table. I placed my fingers on its chest.
Nothing.
I moved my hand. I tried again.
For a few long seconds, I was convinced it was too late.
Suddenly, I felt a slight tremor, barely perceptible.
A small, irregular heartbeat.
“He is alive,” I said softly.
Sarah looked at me in disbelief.
“Really?”
“Barely, but yes.”
We began operations immediately. We warmed him gradually, administered oxygen, stimulated his circulation, and constantly monitored his pulse. He was so weak that even rescuing him required extreme caution. Warming him too quickly could have
