The allegory, the analogy is like this. I had a Labrador Retriever named Max from the time I was five years old. To the time I was 20. And that's 15 years is a long time for a lab. And he had hip dysplasia. We would have had to put him down when he was 12. But I would take him to the vet and I would get him to give him corticotypic steroids, which later can make your arteries explode, can make your muscles fall apart, can mess up your joints. He'd have been dead. He couldn't get up. There's no surgeries for that. So it's a catch-22. He lived three more years. And I worked for a large animal vet, Sonny, all about Depomedrol and stuff. Some of these vets would go, well, we're going to give you this little bottle, but don't give him more than that because it could hurt him. Well, when the regular dose wouldn't work, I'd give him more because I would call back and talk to the vet I knew in East Texas. And he said it was a catch-22, just give him more. But I'd have to go to maybe two vets to get enough of it, because vets wouldn't give me enough. Well, I made the decision to not put the dog down, and he was happy. I'd give him twice what you're supposed to give him, supposedly, and the dog would be up in a day, happy, running around. He lived three more years.