"He's bleeding!" came a panicked wail.
"Calm down." Admittedly, that metallic tang was distracting. My stomach protested. I pawed through the drawer. "Roll him #supine. Apply pressure to the wound."
"It was a-a-an accident!"
What a whiner. "So? Boss won't care how his dinner got damaged."
"But..."
I huffed then nosed at the sewing kit. Next challenge, threading a needle with my teeth.