“Dr. Morris,” came the gruff but familiar voice. “It’s me. Raymond,” he said, voice hoarse from the cold. “I’ve got something. A pig, it was freezing outside in the snow. And something else. A… I don’t even know what it is. Small and weak, I think it’s in trouble.”
There was silence for a beat. “Get them here. Now,” Morris said firmly. “I’ll prepare the room. Drive safe, Ray.” Raymond hung up and stood still for a moment, staring at the pig and the small bundled creature by her side. He was eighty-two.
His back wasn’t what it used to be. Lifting even half the pig’s weight could knock him out for days—or worse. But there wasn’t time for caution. Not now. Not with lives on the line. He wrapped the small creature tightly in his scarf, then turned to the pig. Grabbing the camping blanket, he bundled it around her as best he could.
The wind slammed into him the moment he opened the shed door. Raymond braced himself. One arm under the pig’s chest, the other tugging behind, he began to drag. His legs shook. Fire shot down his spine with each step. But the pig didn’t resist. It groaned faintly, heavy and limp, and let him lead.