Huxley was a chow. We found him on a busy street, in traffic tonight at 9pm. He was very weak and his hind legs weren't supporting him. I took him out of traffic and tore off a rope from my skirt, wrapped it around his neck and tried to pull him to my vet. I carried him part of the way. The vet was closed so Brendan called his mom and she called the vet at home. As we waited, Huxley leaned against me as I tried to give him some water. I pet him, I could feel every vertebrae, every rib, inside his rib cage, the outline of every bone in his hips. He was so gentle and so trusting. The vet showed up and said that he was about 8 years old, and either hit by a car a long time ago, or inflicted with a disease from ticks or fleas. He might live another year with lots of meds and love. We just couldn't take him in, and I decided that he was to be euthanized. I held him while he was given a sedative, he was so malnourished it was very hard to find a vein. I pet him while the IV was inserted, he took his last breath. I felt his last exhale, his heart stop. I cried thinking about how long he suffered and prayed to any god that he was not hungry his whole life, that he felt some love. I gave him his name, Huxley, minutes before he died. Please hug your pet for Huxley tonight. My heart is broken.