He lifted me in gentle arms and ran through the wreckage until we got to the field hospital.Conroy charged into the tent. “Wounded dog here!”He laid me on a cot. Soon a familiar face loomed above. Well, what do you know? It was my old pal Dr. Burns.“Stubby!” said Dr. Burns. “Not you again!”I tried to work up some enthusiasm, but even wagging my stub took more strength than I had in me. I was hurting bad.“He followed us over the top and right into battle,” Conroy said to the doc. “You should have seen him. The little man was in there fighting just like the rest of us.”“Is that true, Stubby?” the doc said with a wide grin. “Are you a fighter? From the looks of you, I’d like to see the other guy.”Conroy held me down while the doc took a pinching tool and removed the shrapnel buried in my leg and chest. Shrapnel are sharp little bits of metal from the exploded grenade. Each time he removed a piece, I let out a yelp.Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! That Dr. Burns sure earned his name that day!He tossed the pieces into a can, where they made a ping-ping-pinging sound.Conroy made calming noises.“This is gonna hurt me more than it hurts you,”
