Disclaimer: I don't own Frasier
Eddie was very sick. He had been laying on the floor for days now and Martin could not coax him to get up. Martin realized he needed to take Eddie to the vet. He just didn't want to because he knew what the vet would say. Eddie was 14 years old now. In dog years that was 98. Martin petted him for a few minutes then picked him up and put him in the car to bring him to the vet.
Driving there Martin tried to speak calmingly to Eddie.
"It's okay boy," he said, "We're just going to the v. e. t. to make you feel better."
Eddie knew that v. e. t. spelled vet and he knew that the vet was where he got doggy treats and a belly rub. Normally he would bark and pant excitedly. Today he just laid there.
The waiting seemed like forever but Martin didn't mind. He just held Eddie in his lap for what he thought would be the last time. He petted him. He kissed him. The doctor came out.
"Mr. Crane?"
Martin followed the doctor into the office. The doctor ran some blood work and took some x-rays. When the x-rays came back the doctor came into the room.
"Eddie has disjointment," the doctor explained, "He can't walk because it's swollen. He's in pain whenever he moves."
Martin closed his eyes.
"So I guess I have to put him to sleep?"he said with tears in his eyes.
"Had it progressed that would be the case," the vet said petting Eddie, "But luckily we caught it in time. A simple procedure will help him."
"Thank you Dr. Graysen," Martin said with a sigh of relief, "How much?"
"Lets say $14.00," the vet said, "You're a friend."
