Animals are smarter than you think.
In the 1950s I lived in a village in Canada. Population: 950 people. Stray dogs: four or five.
A veterinarian who spoke broken English rented a house. He turned a back room into his office/clinic.
If kids with no cash had a “pet” dog or cat or even a gopher or crow — this vet would fix it up for free. I had a pet crow and it was sick ….
The vet said, “Gotta feed it some tiny stones.” Apparently the crow needed grit for its gizzard. I feed it tiny bits of stone for about a week.
The crow ( I had cleverly named, “Blacky”) thrived.
One day I was in the vet’s office and recognized a stray dog sleeping on the floor. Few folks could get close to that dog because it had been badly treated but there it was with a bandaged leg.
It had been hit by a car and the vet had set the poor dog’s broken leg.
A month later the dog was fine, running around the town, and begging for scraps.
A few days later the dog arrived at the vet’s door around 3 AM and started barking.
The dog with the broken leg had another dog with him with a damaged leg.
The vet fixed up the first stray’s buddy.
I don’t know if that second dog ever brought damaged buddies to the vet. But it would not have surprised my crow or me.