“Live like Bones,” Yogi said, appearing out of nowhere. He stood over Bones and G. “I like the sound of that.” He wiped a tear from his eye as he leaned down and stroked G’s head. “This isn’t your fault, sweetheart. Accidents happen and it’s not your fault.” 

G nodded. She had tears in her eyes, too, and she whimpered a little louder, as if she were agreeing with him. 

I stood there, feeling helpless and useless at the same time. I was about to ask what I could do when a car came tearing down the road and screeched to a halt right beside us. Doc Lopez jumped out with his doctor bag in hand.

He raced to G, a stethoscope around his neck, and kneeled down beside her. He moved the stethoscope up and down G’s body, listening intently. 

“Can we move her, Lopey?” Yogi asked.

Doc Lopez shook his head. “She’s got too many internal injuries, Yogi. We can’t risk it.” 

Bones paced between Doc and Yogi. “Well, we can’t just leave her here on the street!” 

Doc Lopez stood up and put his hand on Bones’ shoulder. “No te preocupes, Bones. Har emos todo lo posible para ayudarlo.” (Don’t worry Bones, we’ll do our best to help her.)

Then Doc spoke for everyone to hear. “There’s a stretcher in the back of my car. We’ll bring her to the vet.”

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