He was dying...
Very lonely, without anybody next to his side, without any hope left. Scared and huddled in the corner of his cage,
Wyatt was silently suffering a terrible pain that was tearing his body apart...
Maybe if he had had any tears left, he would have cried,
but he had already cried all his tears out. Maybe if he had had any small hope left, he would have found some strength in dreaming of
something good, but his hope died a long time ago.
What hope, to survive in a killer shelter, could a big size dog possibly have,
who looked about one hundred years old with half his hair missing, a ruptured ear drum, and been diagnosed heart-worm positive?
Less than zero percent, would be the answer. Yes, a dog in such a shape is a sure goner. Cruel as it sounds, it was a sad reality.
To read Wyatt's whole story, please click here