Didn't go to internship. Got a little sidetracked as I was leaving when my mom caught up with me, freaking out because she found a dog in my brother's yard that apparently his dog had mauled. She didn't know whether it was still alive and she had no idea what to do, so I went down to check, and it was indeed still alive. As we were trying to rein Tyson in, it got up and managed to crawl across the street before it collapsed. So we went and got a blanket and the van and took it in to the emergency vet. He was so torn up, mom couldn't even stand to look at him, let alone touch him, so I had to do all the wrapping and carrying, and I sat with him in the back seat. He was pretty clearly a stray, probably somebody dumped him out here hoping us or one of the neighbors would take him in. And we probably would have if there'd been much hope for recovery, but even if we'd been able to pay for surgery it was a pretty slim chance he'd pull through, as he was also starved (we think he was probably trying to get to Tyson's food when Tyson jumped him) and dehydrated and had all kinds of infections, and his heart was so weak there was a good chance the anesthesia would stop it and kill him anyway if they tried surgery. So mom went ahead and signed off for him to be put to sleep. The whole time she kept going on about how I should have been a vet because she was so impressed with how I held it together to get him taken care of, but as she was settling up I had to go sit in the van and completely break down. Oh good, now I'm crying again. Poor little guy.