One wintry November night I was driving home after an 18 hour day at the bakery I run. I saw a bunch of cars slowing down as I neared the turn-off to my house and pulled over, wondering if someone needed some help. By the side of the road lay a beautiful doe, bleeding sluggishly from a large cut on her back leg and clearly disoriented. Heartbroken, I went to her side wondering how in the world I was going to mercifully put her down since I don't carry a gun.
Suddenly there was a voice from behind me. "Hold this," a middle-aged man said, handing me a black-leather doctor's bag. Without thought to the snow, he knelt by the doe, speaking gently and wrapped a towel around her head. "Hold her still," he said as he rummaged through his bag. A ton of sterile surgical glue and a couple staples later and one quick shot of antibiotics he pulled the towel off of her face and pushed her ribs. Slowly, she stumbled to her feet and wandered back into the woods. I stared at this amazing man.
"Don't worry," he said. "I'm a vet."
Thank you, Sir. So often I see deer dying out on these deserted back roads. You helped someone make it back to her family.
Spokane, WA
