Help Dracula the dog's little heart

Hey everyone, it's Dracula! You probably know me through my dad, Matt Dwyer. I wish I could be out sniffing other dogs' butts or hollering at the mailman right now, but here's the deal... I haven't been feeling well lately. Turns out that I've got a little heart thing going on. Okay, maybe it's kind of a big heart thing. Congestive heart failure, to be precise.

I know what you're thinking—"but Dracula, you're way too young to be having health problems!" Not gonna lie, I look darn good for being 11, but this ticker needs some maintenance to keep up with all this handsome. Last week, my dad noticed I was acting a little funny and rushed me off to the doctor. I had to stay a couple of days in the hospital, and my dad (he's the best) footed the bill. Oh, and what a honker of a bill it was. Healthcare these days, amiright?

My dad loves me more than anything in the world and works so hard to take care  of me, but Covid times are a little tough. I've got more treatments on the way, and I don't want my dad stress out over it.

So I come here with my tail between my legs to ask for a little help. I mean, I have no problem begging for food, but asking for a dollar or two is, like, hella weird. But I love my dad (he's the best) and I want to stay with him for as long as I can. If you could find it in your heart to donate a few bucks for my hospital bills, I'd love you forever. Almost as much as I love my dad (he's the best).