I had parked my bike to make a repair when I heard whimpering. In all my years riding, I’d never encountered anything like it.
There she was: beautiful, sick, abandoned—but still wagging her tail at me. Her collar held two notes.
“Please save Daisy. She’s all I have left. Daddy says she has to die but I know angels ride motorcycles. I prayed you’d find her. There’s $7.43 in her collar. It’s all my tooth fairy money. Please don’t let her die alone. Love, Madison, age 7.”
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