Long enough to watch farms turn into subdivisions.
Long enough to bury more dogs than he cared to count.
And long enough to know exactly what it meant when someone walked into his clinic with desperation already written across their face.
The morning June Mercer arrived, the sky outside was still gray with early autumn rain.
She pushed through the clinic door holding a tiny gray terrier wrapped in a faded towel.
The dog made a terrible sound every time he tried to breathe.
Wet.
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