I Chose to Save a Dog Over My Wife

My wife, who was eight months pregnant, went out to walk the dog and got into a car accident. The impact wasn't severe, but the shock caused her water to break. Panicked, I immediately called an ambulance.

When the paramedics arrived, they moved swiftly, preparing to put my wife on a stretcher. Before they could lift her, I stepped forward and stopped them.

"You've misunderstood. I called the ambulance for the dog. Hurry up and take it to the pet hospital—there's no time to waste!"

For a moment, silence filled the air. The paramedics, the onlookers—everyone was stunned. My wife, lying on the ground, stared at me in disbelief before tears welled up in her eyes.

"So, to you, our child and I... we're less important than the dog?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Without hesitation, I answered, "Yes."

——

A paramedic, clearly taken aback, tried to reason with me. "Sir, please don't joke around. Even though we're a private ambulance service, saving human lives is still our priority."

I barely spared him a glance. My focus remained on my dog, Duke, who lay on the pavement, whimpering in pain. His body trembled slightly, his breathing uneven. Anxiety clawed at my chest.

"A life is a life—doesn't a dog's life count too?" I snapped, my frustration mounting. "Duke has been with me for eight years. He's family to me! If you don't save him today, I won't let this go!"

Murmurs rippled through the crowd gathered around us. The expressions on their faces shifted from curiosity to disgust.

"What the hell? His wife's water just broke and he doesn't even care? He's only worried about the dog?"

"I have a dog too, but no matter how much I love it, I would never ignore my wife and child. This guy must be crazy!"

"Poor woman... She's married a heartless bastard!"

I ignored the whispered accusations and carefully placed Duke onto the stretcher, making sure he was as comfortable as possible. His fur was damp with sweat, his whimpers soft but pained. My heart twisted.

"Stop standing there! I called you here and I've already paid. Hurry up and take Duke to the pet hospital!" I urged the paramedics.

They hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances before shifting their gaze to my wife. She was still sitting weakly on the ground, her face drained of color, her hands gripping her belly. Amniotic fluid pooled beneath her, soaking the fabric of her dress. One of the paramedics opened his mouth, likely to persuade me again, but before he could, my wife let out a slow breath and spoke.

"Save Duke first. I'll call another ambulance for myself." Her voice was weak, yet steady.

I turned to look at her. Despite her obvious pain, she gazed at me with quiet understanding, her dark eyes shimmering with restrained sorrow.

"If anything happens to Duke, my husband will be devastated," she murmured.

A faint, wry smile touched her lips, as if she had long accepted her place in my heart.

My wife's words left the crowd stunned. Even as she sat there, pale and trembling, she still chose to put me first. Some of the onlookers looked at her with admiration, others with deep sympathy.

I ignored them all and turned to the paramedics again. "Did you hear that? My wife already agreed. Now hurry up and drive! If you delay any longer, Duke will be in danger!"

The paramedics hesitated for a fraction of a second before finally complying. The ambulance doors shut and with the wail of sirens, we sped off toward the pet hospital. I sat next to Duke, stroking his fur gently as he lay still on the stretcher. His breathing was faint but steady.

At the hospital, the veterinary team wasted no time, rushing Duke into surgery. I paced outside the operating room, my chest tight with anxiety and every second felt like an eternity.

Then, my phone rang. It was my mother.

"Damian! Wanda's delivered a baby boy, but his condition is concerning. You need to come right away!" Her voice was frantic, thick with worry.

I gripped the phone, my mind struggling to process her words. "Mom, Duke is still in surgery. His condition is unstable—I can't leave right now."

There was a long, heavy silence before my mother's voice erupted in fury.

"Damian, that's your own son!" Her sharp tone made me flinch. "Do you even realize how dangerous it was for Wanda when her water broke? The doctors said if she had arrived even a second later, both she and the baby could've died!"

My mother's voice cracked with emotion, but I couldn't respond. I stared at the door of the operating room, waiting for any sign of Duke's condition.

"If it weren't for Wanda constantly defending you, telling me not to blame you, I would've beaten you to death myself, you ungrateful bastard!" she shouted, her words laced with raw anger.

My mother had always been a gentle woman, rarely raising her voice. This was the first time I had ever heard such venom in her tone. And yet, her anger barely registered in my mind.

My focus remained on Duke. The operating room door finally swung open and the pet doctor stepped out.

I gripped my phone tighter and said quickly, "Mom, I can't talk now. Duke's surgery is over—I have to take care of him."

I didn't wait for a reply, the line went dead as I jammed my phone into my pocket and surged towards the operating room doors.