He put the gun in my hand and said, “It doesn’t have a chance to live. It’s too injured.”

“But… we can take it to a vet!”

“The vet will say to put it down.”

“Then… we’ll let the vet put it down. Or… we can give it Tramadol.”

“Tramadol’s pain relief is ten times weaker than morphine, Gabe. Aren’t you studying like I told you?”

“Yes, I am… I swear I am.”

“You’ve already given the wrong medication to your little dog,” he laughed ...