“Sorry about that,” said the nurse, looking official in her blue scrubs. “Sometimes the vet puts animals on edge, and they get antsy around other pets. Dr. Chevram’s waiting for you in here.”

Once they went into the examining room, Dr. Chevram gave Dad a firm handshake and Amy a hug. Amy felt a warm surge of appreciation for the woman as she squeezed her—the doc had been with them from Stormy’s first run-in with a porcupine to Coop’s recent swollen footpads. No matter what the emergency, or how much Amy felt like her heart might explode, Dr. Chevram was always there to tell her everything would be fine.

“Let’s see what we’ve got here,” she said now, slapping the metal examining table in the middle of the room. Rover reared and leapt up onto it with a clicking of toenails. Dr. Chevram smiled and clapped.

“A good-looking dog, to be sure,” she said, rubbing Rover behind the ear. “He’s a stray, right, Mitchell?”

“That’s right.” Dad recounted the story of finding Rover on the side of the road. Amy thought back to how it felt seeing him chained to that fence, and another flicker of uneasy sadness hit her. She reached out and pet Rover’s neck; the dog bent his head down and licked Amy’s arm.

“Some people …” said Dr. Chevram, shaking her head. “But you’d be surprised how often this happens. Some folks get dogs as puppies and then don’t want the final product, or hate having to house-train them, and then they just abandon them.” She grimaced. “The tape and the blindfold, though—that’s rough. Let’s give him a once-over.”

Dr. Chevram pulled a penlight from her scrubs pocket and peered into Rover’s ears and eyes and under his chops. The German shepherd wasn’t skittish at all; if anything, Amy noticed, he was far calmer in the vet’s office than Stormy ever was. Amy made soft shushing noises and petted his back, but she never felt the dog’s heart pounding in him the way Stormy’s did.

“Well, he seems perfectly healthy—wait,” said Dr. Chevram once she was through. She had stopped just short of Rover’s front left paw. She pulled the fur back a bit and clucked. “Here, on the leg, he’s got a hot spot. That could be trouble in the long term. Take a look.”

Amy and Dad leaned forward and peered down. On Rover’s paw was a patch of thinning fur, with some areas completely bare down to irritated, cracked skin that shone with pus. Rover tried to pull his paw away, and Amy felt for the guy—that must hurt.

“Is there anything we can do about that?” asked Dad. “A pill or something?”