When the first pictures of Socrates appeared on my social media feed, I felt my heart break. The poor dog had lived in sickness, dirt, and chains for nine long years. His body was nothing more than a bag of bones, covered in scabies, and severely dehydrated. Open wounds dotted his skin, adding to his misery. I knew I couldn’t let this old man suffer for even one more day. Despite my busy schedule, I went to see Socrates the very next day.
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It was heartbreaking to see his skinny body so weak and frail, unable to withstand the ravages of disease. He looked shabby and unkempt, and his eyes were deeply indented from the swelling on his face. I tried calling out to him, but he didn’t respond. I wondered if he was deaf. However, when I offered him some food, he eagerly gobbled it up, giving me hope that I could bring him back to health.
With everything prepared, we took Socrates to the vet for a full checkup. I had never dealt with such a severe case before, and the responsibility weighed heavily on my shoulders. I wanted a good ending for this poor soul, and I was determined to do everything I could to make it happen.
The test results were not good, however. Socrates had bone cancer. His hind ankle was so deformed that his hind leg needed amputation. My heart sank, and I prayed that the cancer hadn’t metastasized and that it would be treatable. Socrates needed to stay at the vet for treatment to increase his weight and boost his immune system.
