Behind them, a handler muttered, “Your problem now. It’s not like we didn’t warn you,” with a tired laugh. Sam didn’t respond. He kept his attention on the dog, who seemed smaller outside the auction hall, stripped of even the illusion of strength.
Sam guided the dog toward his car. Each step looked labored and uneven. The dog moved as if already injured, favoring one side, pausing often. Sam slowed his pace without comment, adjusting instinctively to what the dog could manage.