Raymond grabbed the landline and dialed Animal Control. After several rings, a tired voice answered. “Westbury Animal Services—this is Diane.” He explained everything—how he’d been alerted by the neighbor girl, what he saw in the yard, the freezing conditions, the animal’s size and stillness.
Diane let out a long exhale. “I’ll be honest with you, sir. With this storm bearing down, the roads are barely drivable. We’ve suspended most pickups. But…” she hesitated, “I’ll put in a dispatch request, just in case someone’s still nearby.
The odds aren’t good, but I’ll try to get someone out.” Raymond’s hope flickered. “That’s all I ask.” “In the meantime,” she added, “if there’s any way you can give it shelter or warmth, do what you can. If it’s lying still, it’s in trouble.”
Raymond frowned, glancing back through the window. “It’s not exactly going to be easy to move,” he said. “It’s big. And I’m not as strong as I used to be.” There was a pause. Then Diane replied, “You don’t have to lift it, sir. If it can still walk, try to lead it somewhere sheltered.”