My Pregnant Wife Crashed—But I Saved the Dog

My wife, eight months pregnant, was hit by a car while walking our dog. I called an ambulance immediately. The moment the paramedics arrived and went to put my wife on the stretcher, I stopped them.
“You’ve got the wrong one. I called the ambulance for the dog. You need to get him to the animal hospital right now, before it’s too late.”
The paramedics and the crowd of onlookers stared, completely baffled.
My wife, lying on the pavement, looked up at me with tears streaming down her face. “In your eyes,” she sobbed, “are my life and our baby’s life worth less than a dog’s?”
Without a second’s hesitation, I said, “Yes.”

1
“Sir, please be serious,” one of the paramedics said, standing his ground. “We may be a private ambulance service, but our priority is always human life.”
I looked at our dog, Buddy, whimpering in pain on the ground, and my patience snapped. “A human life is a life, but isn't a dog’s life a life, too? Buddy has been with me for eight years. He’s family. If you don’t save him today, I’ll make you regret it!”
My outburst set the crowd murmuring.
“What kind of monster is he? His wife’s water just broke from the accident, and he hasn’t even glanced at her. All he cares about is that dog.”
“I own a dog, and I love him to death, but I’d never abandon my wife and child. Is this guy out of his mind?”
“That poor woman, married to an animal like him!”
I ignored their judgment, carefully lifting Buddy onto the stretcher myself. “What are you waiting for? I’m the one who called you, and I’ve already paid. Now get my dog to the animal hospital!”
The paramedics exchanged a hesitant look, their eyes darting to my wife, Chelsea, who was now slumped against the curb. Her face was ashen, and the fluid from her ruptured amniotic sac was still pooling around her. They opened their mouths to argue, but Chelsea spoke first, her voice weak as she clutched her stomach.
“Please, just save Buddy,” she whispered. “I can call another ambulance for myself. My husband… he would be devastated if anything happened to Buddy.”
She looked up at me, her eyes brimming with a love so deep it seemed to swallow the agony she was clearly in.
The crowd’s murmurs shifted to sympathy and admiration for her.
I ignored them all and pressed the paramedics again. “You heard her. My wife agrees. Now drive! Buddy is running out of time!”
Finally, the ambulance doors closed, and we sped toward the animal hospital, leaving Chelsea behind on the pavement.
While Buddy was in surgery, my mother called.
“Ethan, Chelsea had the baby—it's a boy. But he's not doing well. You need to get here now!”
Her voice was frantic, but my mind was elsewhere. “Mom, Buddy’s still in surgery. His condition is unstable. I can’t leave him.”
My mother’s voice exploded through the phone. “Ethan, that is your son! Do you have any idea how close you came to losing them? The doctors said if Chelsea had arrived one minute later, neither she nor the baby would have made it! If she wasn’t defending you, telling me not to blame you, I swear I would beat you senseless myself!”
My mother had always been gentle. I had never heard her so furious. But I couldn’t focus on her anger. My eyes were glued to the operating room door. When the vet finally emerged, I cut my mother off.
“Mom, I have to go. Buddy’s out of surgery. I need to take care of him.”
I hung up and rushed to the vet. “Doctor, how is he? Is Buddy going to be okay?”

2
Seeing the tremor in my hands, the doctor placed a calming hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry. We got to him in time. He’s out of danger, but we need to keep him for observation for the next twenty-four hours.”
A wave of relief washed over me. “Okay, good. That’s all that matters.”
As soon as I said it, my phone rang again. It was my father.
“Ethan, your son is fighting for his life. How can you not be here? Get to this hospital now!” His voice was a thunderous roar, accustomed to being obeyed.
But I answered without thinking. “Dad, Buddy needs me. I can’t leave.”
His fury intensified. “A dog is more important than your wife and child? Ethan, you chased Chelsea from high school through college. You fought so hard to marry her. At your wedding, you stood in front of all our friends and family and swore you would never let her suffer a moment of pain. Even Buddy—Chelsea was the one who found him as a stray eight years ago! The only reason you love that dog so much is because of her. How can your feelings for the dog remain, while you treat her like this?”
His words stung, and tears welled in my eyes against my will. I wiped them away. “Dad,” I said, my voice thick, “that’s all in the past.”
“Buddy needs me. That’s all.”
I hung up and turned off my phone.
I didn’t leave Buddy’s side for a second. As time passed, he slowly regained consciousness. When he finally opened his big, watery eyes and gave a weak wag of his tail, the knot in my chest finally loosened.
The next day, after a final check-up, the vet gave me the all-clear to take him home. But as I stepped out of the clinic, a mob of people swarmed me.
“There he is! That’s the scumbag from the internet! The one who saved his dog instead of his wife!”
“His pregnant wife gets in a car crash, and he steals the ambulance for his dog!”
“His wife is seriously injured, and his premature son is barely hanging on, and where is he? He spent the whole night at the vet with a dog!”
“Everyone get a good look at this monster’s face! If you see him, give him hell!”
They shoved their phones in my face, livestreaming and recording, their expressions a mixture of outrage and disgust. The commotion drew an even larger crowd. As the story spread, their faces twisted into the same contempt. The comments on the livestreams were a torrent of hate, calling me less than human, wishing me a painful death.
It was then I realized someone must have recorded the entire incident at the accident scene and posted it online. Overnight, I had become the internet’s most hated man. These streamers had tracked me down for their content.
One of them pushed his phone right up to my face. “In the video, a lot of people thought your conversation with your wife must have been edited. So tell us now, in front of everyone. Do you really believe a dog’s life is more important than your wife and child’s?”
Facing a dozen cameras, I didn’t hesitate for a second. “Yes.”

3
My answer ignited a firestorm.
“Oh my god. I wouldn't believe it if I wasn’t seeing it myself. Someone actually thinks his wife and kid are worth less than a dog.”
“If you love your dog that much, why did you get married and ruin a woman’s life?!”
“Exactly! Why wasn’t it you who got hit by the car? A piece of trash like you is the one who deserves to die!”
The streamers fanned the flames, and the crowd’s anger boiled over. They screamed insults, their faces contorted with rage, looking like they wanted to tear me apart.
Just as the wave of fury was about to crash over me, my parents arrived, pushing Chelsea in a wheelchair. She was ghostly pale, slumped weakly against the cushions, looking utterly drained. As they wheeled her in front of me, her first words were for me.
“Ethan, are you okay?”
Her voice was barely a whisper, as if speaking took all her strength. But even then, her concern was for me. I looked into her love-filled eyes and just shook my head, saying nothing.
My father’s face was grim. “Ethan, your mother and I were up all night trying to understand why you would suddenly treat Chelsea this way. We thought maybe you had some misunderstanding about her or the baby, so we had an expedited paternity test done. He is your son, Ethan. Your own flesh and blood. How could you abandon them for a dog?!”
He thrust the report at me. I didn’t even glance at it. “Oh,” was all I said.
My mother frowned. “Ethan, Chelsea saw the livestream of people harassing you. She was so worried that she discharged herself from the hospital against doctor’s orders just to get to you. She is always thinking of you. You can’t keep hurting her like this. Now, be a man and apologize.”
I stroked Buddy’s fur. “I just wanted to save my dog,” I said, my voice firm. “What did I do wrong?”
SMACK!
The sound echoed in the sudden silence. My father had slapped me across the face, hard.
“You worthless bastard! You left your pregnant, injured wife alone on the street to save a dog! You ignored your own premature son while you sat with that animal! Do you have any idea he’s still in an incubator, fighting for his life? Have you even asked about him once?! And you still have the nerve to say you did nothing wrong?!”

4
My father was screaming, his voice raw with rage. He had put all his strength into the slap, and my cheek was already swelling and turning a deep red.
Chelsea’s eyes filled with pain as she looked at my face. She turned to my father. “Dad, please don’t be angry. Don’t hit Ethan. He was just desperate to save Buddy. I know, deep down, he still loves me and the baby.”
Just then, her phone rang. It was the hospital.
As soon as she answered, the doctor’s urgent voice came through the speaker. “Ms. Miller, your son needs an emergency blood transfusion. He has a rare Rh-negative blood type, and the hospital’s blood bank doesn’t have a match on hand. We need to know if you or the father are a match. We need someone to come in immediately, or the baby is in grave danger!”
Chelsea’s face went white. She grabbed my hand. “Ethan, you’re Rh-negative! Come on, we have to go save our son!”
I pulled my hand away. “No,” I said flatly. “I have to take care of Buddy.”
Chelsea stared at me, her eyes wide with disbelief.
My mother shrieked, “Ethan, have you lost your mind? That’s your son!”
“You ignored Chelsea after the accident, and now you’re going to let your son die?”
I met my mother’s horrified gaze. “The vet said Buddy is extremely weak right now and needs constant care. I have to go home and make him some nutritious broth. Besides,” I added calmly, “I’m anemic. What if something happens to me during the transfusion? Who will take care of Buddy then?”
At that, Chelsea’s face crumpled. She struggled out of her wheelchair and knelt before me on the ground.
“Ethan,” she choked out, tears streaming down her face. “We’ve been together for so long, and I have never, ever asked you for anything. You can treat me however you want, I don’t care, but our baby… our baby is innocent! I’m begging you, please, go save him. He was just born. He hasn’t even had a chance to see the world!”
She was a picture of desperation, her voice broken and pleading.
But I remained unmoved. “If you want to save him, you go. I have to take care of Buddy. I don’t have time for the hospital.”
I turned to leave, holding Buddy close. My father grabbed my arm, his voice shaking with rage. “You monster! You’d let your own child die for a dog?”
My mother’s face was etched with pain. “Ethan, you have disappointed me more than I can say. From this day on, we are done. I don’t have a heartless son like you!”
The livestream comments exploded.
“I thought saving the dog over the wife was rock bottom, but now he won’t even save his own dying son? Is he even human?”
“This is disgusting. He’ll spend all night at a vet but won’t take an hour to give blood to his own baby. He’s worse than an animal!”
“I’m furious! This man doesn’t deserve to live, let alone have a wife and child!”
“I hope karma strikes him down right where he stands!”
The crowd erupted, throwing garbage and spitting at me, their faces masks of fury.
Just as I was about to be swallowed by the storm of their hatred, a cold, clear voice cut through the noise.
“None of you have the right to judge him.”
I looked up and saw her. A smile touched my lips.
Finally, the show was about to begin.

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