In a final bid for Rusty’s future, Derrick ran outside to the busy street. He asked passersby for help, but most brushed him off. A few offered sympathy, though not money. Embarrassment and despair warred within him. He could only think about Rusty’s life ticking away inside.
Eventually, Derrick returned to the vet. The prognosis was clear: time was running short. If he couldn’t gather the funds soon, euthanasia would become the only merciful choice. The vet’s regretful tone was unmistakable. Derrick felt torn between sorrow and rage at his own helplessness.