Saved by a Warrior Dog

by Cassidy Wells

  “Yeah. It sounds like there’s a lot of internal preparation for me. Being strong and confident. Not really what I do well. What did your command mean?”

  “It translates to ‘let’s go’ as in ‘let’s go together.’ If you wanted to say ‘Let’s go home’ it would be a different phrase. I can tell you another time. If I say it now, he’ll get confused.”

  “Wow. I not only need to transform my personality, I have to learn Italian.”

  “And don’t forget that you have to speak it with an East Tennessee accent. That’s what Maverick has learned to recognize. Believe me. It wasn’t the easiest thing for this boy from Colorado to learn.”

  She giggled. “I’ll bet. But from what I can tell, you’re doing a convincing job of it.”

  “Thanks.”

  He stopped their procession and looked over his shoulder, needing to assess her readiness to take over. “Now, it’s your turn. First, put yourself into a state of confidence and leadership. That’s right. Stand a little straighter. Now drop your shoulders.” He nudged her right shoulder. “Relax it a little more. Good. Now pay attention to your breathing. You’re holding your breath. Take a couple of deep breaths. That’s good. Now shake out your arms so they’re more relaxed.”

  She followed his directions, although she needed more confidence.

  “Okay, now think about a time, a specific time, when you felt thoroughly in charge. You didn’t have to work at it, it just came naturally. Can you think of a time like that?”

  She nodded. “Yes, when I have to handle the children’s group at the library. I know that I have to be in charge, and they’re looking to me to tell them what’s acceptable behavior and what isn’t.”

  “Perfect! That’s exactly the type of situation. Now think back to how you hold yourself when you’re thoroughly in charge. You know exactly what to do and how to do it, do you not?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay, now. Let’s do it with Maverick. He can be the five-year-old wild child in your story group. Take charge.” He grasped her hand and guided it to the handle on Maverick’s harness. “Give him the command.”

  She took a breath and pulled it from her memory. “Andiamo, Maverick.” The dog hesitated momentarily until she began to move and then synched his step with hers.

  “Look straight ahead at where you’re going,” Rob coached. “Guide him where you want him to go. How about we go around the block?”

  She nodded. “Si.”

  He snorted. “Oh, so you’re secretly Italian, huh?”

  “Must be the spaghetti and meatballs I had for dinner.”

  “Keep going, you’re doing fine.” He watched carefully as Maverick matched her stride step by step. Both woman and canine seemed more relaxed than he’d expected. Maybe it helped that Maverick was used to Rob following behind him. Not going there.

  When they’d travelled around the block, Mary Jane and Maverick both sported a casual stride. Any nervousness he’d seen in her was gone. “Let’s get him some water,” he said, pointing out Maverick’s panting.

  They got him a bowl of water, and Rob gave him a small treat.

  “How did it go?” Mrs. Van Buren asked.

  Mary Jane looked at him as if waiting for his evaluation.

  “She did great. They both did.” He turned and smiled. “I’m really impressed with how you went from uncertainty to confidence. I think you’ll be able to do this. Your success will be determined by your mindset. The more confident you feel, the more he’ll trust you, and vice versa. Sure, it’ll take practice, but I’m pleased with what you’ve shown me tonight, Mary Jane.”

  She wiggled at his compliment and seemed to glow. “I wasn’t sure I could do it, but you’re a great teacher. You knew exactly how to get me to uncover my confidence and strength. I’m so grateful for your willingness to help me.”

  It’s what Trevor wanted. “No problem. I told you I’ll help as long as you need me. We need to get Maverick back to the motel and fed.”

  “Oh, my gosh! I didn’t even think about the fact that he lay there throughout supper, and we didn’t give him any.” Mary Jane looked guilty.

  “You don’t want to feed him table scraps. I’ll help you pick out the dog food he’ll need. I’m sure there’s a store around here that sells it, or if we need to, we can order it online.”

  “There’s a new store that the Ridgeview K-9 officer and his wife just opened. It’s south of downtown. I’ll check to see what their hours are. If it’s too late to go tomorrow night after work, we can go on Saturday.”

  “If you have time this weekend, we need to work on training him more.”

  “Don’t worry, it’s a priority. We can even do some more after work tomorrow if you’re willing.”

  “That should be all right. I need to spend some time during the day looking for an apartment or some temporary housing. The Ridgeview Motel isn’t the best place for us. It’d be nice if I could find someplace with a yard.”

  Mary Jane nodded and looked at her mother who was rinsing dishes in the sink. “Mom, do you know anything that’s for rent? Rob needs to find a place for him and Maverick to stay.”

  Mrs. Van Buren thought for a moment. “Actually, Thelina Boggs may have one of her duplex units for rent. She has that house over on Wells Avenue, and Shelby Marsden moved out of the upper flat last week to get married. She married that Smithson boy. What was his name? Jim?”

  “Oh, yeah. I think he went to school with Nick. Doesn’t Shelby work at the Farm Bureau?”

  Rob smiled to himself. The small-town knowledge base was something else. Everybody knew everybody else.

  “Rob, if you’d like, I’ll call Thelina and let her know you’ll contact her about the apartment. It sometimes helps to have an introduction from somebody who can vouch for you. Be sure to tell her you’re a veteran and a friend of Trevor Baird’s. That should convince her to let you keep Maverick there.”

  “That’d be great, Mrs. Van Buren. After you’ve talked with her, if she’s receptive, can you call me and give me her number? My cell is 970-555-1213. I’ll call her tomorrow morning after Maverick and I have done PT.”

  “I’ll do that. I’ll also call if I hear about anything else for rent. Now you two get some dinner for that good dog. Nick already left while you were out working with Maverick.”

  “Don’t you want help with the dishes, Mom?”

  “No, don’t worry about it. I’ll talk with you tomorrow.” She leaned over and gave Mary Jane a kiss and then leaned in to hug Rob. Although surprised at the show of affection, he responded with a big hug. It reminded him of the way his mom used to hug him and his friends. Too much loss. He’d better shut off his mind.

  They walked to his truck, and he opened the back door and gave Maverick the command to jump up, “Salta su.” Without hesitating, the dog leaped up into the back seat and settled down behind the driver’s seat.

  After their short drive across town to Mary Jane’s, Rob revisited their practice session as he walked her to the door. “You did a great job tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow night and if you’re up for it, we can take him to the park and work with him before it gets dark.”

  “That sounds great. Good luck finding an apartment.” She hesitated before unlocking the door. “Are you sure it’s okay for you to stay and help me learn how to handle Maverick? It seems like a big inconvenience—having to get an apartment, staying here and putting your own life on hold. I appreciate it, but it seems like asking a lot.”

  “It’s the right thing to do.”

  “Do you always do the right thing?”

  “When I can.” He didn’t want to explain about his promise to Trevor and the sense of obligation he felt toward his buddy and Maverick. “I do the right thing as much as I can.”

  She stared at him, as if studying him. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  He walked back to the truck, and as he got in turned to Maverick. “Oh, buddy. What have I gotten m
yself into?”

  The dog’s response was a slight whine and soulful look as if he completely understood the situation.

  Chapter Five

  Rob woke to the sound of scrabbling claws, and soft whimpers that swiftly turned into the sound of a loud howl that made his skin crawl. He reached over to turn on the light and searched the room as his feet hit the floor. “Maverick! Va bene!” He had to raise his voice over the eerie wail the dog made. He slid down next to the dog who lay on the floor next to the bed. “Aw, Maverick,” he said as he petted and tried to soothe the terrified Malinois. He hadn’t experienced anything like this, although there had been some bad dreams and whining before. “Va bene,” he said again, wishing he had a greater vocabulary in Italian so he could reassure Maverick the way Trevor would have. “Il mio coraggioso cane guerriero.” Would calling the military canine “my brave warrior dog,” snap him out of whatever flashback or nightmare he had, or would it send him further into the memory?

  It was difficult enough understanding PTSD when humans had it, but with an animal, it seemed a lot harder. He couldn’t use reason or explain to Maverick how to ground himself when these symptoms hit. He rubbed and petted him and was relieved when those warm chocolate eyes snapped open.The dog startled at Rob’s proximity. “Yeah, buddy. I’m here. I know how hard it is. I’m with you. It’ll be all right. I struggle with the same shit.” He sighed and shook his head. It seemed as if everybody who’d seen action in these endless wars suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. That probably wasn’t the case, but it sure seemed like it.

  Truth was, even though his buddies didn’t talk about it, he knew they all struggled. He hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since Trevor died. Come to think of it, Maverick probably hadn’t either.

  How in hell was he going to get Maverick ready to live with Mary Jane, and how could he move her forward enough to handle such a strong Belgian Malinois, especially one that suffered from PTSD? He hadn’t talked to the vet at Camp Lejeune about it, and they hadn’t said a word to him either. Maybe they hadn’t noticed. He’d like to find somebody locally to talk to about it, somebody who was more of a specialist about the canine version of PTSD than he was. If he couldn’t find anybody in Ridgeview, he’d check with the Vet School in Knoxville. Surely, they would have seen it, since complicated animal medical and behavioral issues usually ended up at a university veterinary hospital.

  He checked his watch which read 02:40. He pulled his pillow off the bed and hunkered down next to the large, red dog, petting him until he relaxed and sighed, putting his big canine head on the floor. Rob tucked himself into the dog’s warm, furry body, and eventually they both drifted off to sleep.

  He woke to a wet, warm breath exhaling next to his nose. It took him only a moment to remember why he was on the floor. Maverick leaned over him with a concerned expression. “Va bene, Maverick,” he reassured the dog. If only it was true and everything was good. Well, he’d just have to make sure he made everything that way. He owed it to Trevor, and he owed it to Maverick. He probably owed it to MJ. Mary Jane, he corrected himself.

  He stole a look at his watch—05:30. Okay, that was a reasonable time to get up and start moving. He and Maverick could use some exercise, and both had to relieve themselves. He took care of himself and threw on shorts and a T-shirt and hooked his canine companion onto his leash rather than the bridge handle. Rob suspected they both liked the routine of PT each morning. They needed it.

  Once they got back from the park and a two-hour workout, they seemed less stressed. Maverick no longer gave him worried looks, and Rob felt the glow of endorphins flooding his system.

  He showered, and they headed out to an old-style diner in downtown Ridgeview, named The Diner. He gave a signal to Maverick to stay in the truck, windows down, and he went in to grab coffee and an order of eggs and sausage to go. Rejoining the dog, he headed toward a park on the other side of the old courthouse. He poured kibble into a bowl for Maverick and filled another bowl at a nearby water fountain. He sat at a picnic table and ate his breakfast, while the dog made short work of his own.

  He dumped the trash into a nearby garbage can and looked at his watch. He was ready to check out living quarters and hoped to hear from Mrs. Van Buren soon. As if he’d conjured her, his phone rang with an unfamiliar number.

  “Hello, Rob? This is Carolrae Van Buren. I spoke with Mrs. Boggs a few minutes ago. She says you should drop over and see the apartment. She’s okay with renting to you and Maverick. She has an upper flat on Wells Street. That’s on the east side of Ridgeview, a few miles from MJ’s house. Let’s see. Here’s the address: 5321 Wells. You’ll go down East Main Street until you get to the roundabout, and then follow it around to Martindale. Follow Martindale to Wells and take a right. You’ll go three blocks and it’s a white two-story house with an outside staircase. Her name is Thelina Boggs.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Van Buren. I’ll find it. I appreciate you paving the way for me.”

  “Good luck, Rob. I appreciate your willingness to teach MJ what she needs to know about handling Maverick. I hope she’ll be able to pick up what she needs. It sounds like you’ll be a good teacher. She needs this right now. She’s been so lost.”

  I know what that’s like. He didn’t say it out loud. He wasn’t used to sharing his pain with others, no matter how nice and motherly they were. He’d honor his promise to Trevor—and Maverick—and then hit the road. Maybe he’d figure out how to put his life back together.

  By eleven hundred hours, Rob had signed a month-to-month lease on a one-bedroom upper flat and had listened to Mrs. Boggs gush about what a “big boy” Maverick was. Luckily, the Belgian Malinois had tolerated her hugs and invasion of his space without losing his cool. Rob wasn’t thrilled with having his cheek pinched by the sixty-something woman in too much eye makeup.

  “Well, buddy, I guess we’re really staying for a while.” He made a mental list of things to accomplish this afternoon before he met with Mary Jane again. He checked out of the motel and moved his things into the apartment, stopped at a bank and opened a checking account, and left Maverick at the apartment to explore, while he hit a nearby grocery store for basic provisions. After unpacking his supplies and grabbing a quick sandwich, he and Maverick headed over to the pet store Mary Jane had mentioned, using an app on his phone.

  Rob and Maverick pulled into a parking space in front of the storefront located just outside of downtown. A bell tinkled above the door as they entered, and a pleasant young woman approached him.

  “Welcome to Barnaby’s Table. What a beautiful Belgian Malinois,” she said, reaching out to let Maverick sniff her fist. “Is he a service dog? He reminds me of ours. My husband and I own Barnaby’s. We named the store after our dog, Barnaby, the Malinois K-9 officer Ben used to work with.” Sadness passed over her face. “He died last year of cancer. Ben is working with another Malinois now named Kit, but we both miss Barnaby terribly. You never forget your first love.”

  He nodded when it appeared her conversational motor had run down. “He was partner to my buddy, Trevor Baird. They both worked in our Marine unit in Afghanistan.” He looked around to see if anyone else was listening. “I think he’s got a touch of PTSD. We’re both out now, and I brought him to Ridgeview to his new owner.”

  The woman shook her head, sadly. “We’ve seen other service dogs who’ve ended up suffering from PTSD. I guess we shouldn’t be surprised. If it can affect human warriors, it can also affect the canine ones.”

  “Are there any vets around here who know how to treat PTSD in dogs? Veterinarians, I mean.”

  “Rachel Waring at Mountain Veterinary Clinic is former Army and seems to know a lot. I’d check with her.”

  Rob made a note in his phone before letting her know what he needed in dog food.

  “It’s right over here.” She directed him to a neatly stacked display of a variety of the type of dog food Maverick needed.

  “I’ll take two bags of that,” he said, pointing t
o one particular brand and size. Maverick stopped sniffing, and perked up, as if he understood: this purchase would be for him, and something he’d like.

  “Thanks, Robert,” she said as she handed the credit card receipt to him. “My name is Dawn. Ben will be excited to learn that there’s another Belgian Malinois in town. I hope you’ll stop in some weekend. The Ridgeview Police Department keeps him busy during the week, but he tries to work here on Saturdays. He may want to schedule a play date for Kit and your dog. What’s his name?”

  “Maverick.” Rob felt a bit overwhelmed by Dawn’s friendliness and the flood of information. Small towns. They differed from what he was used to. Durango wasn’t huge, but it was nothing like this.

  Dawn leaned down and petted Maverick’s head. “Don’t be strangers,” she said and waved at them as they left the store.

  Rob loaded the bags into the back of the truck and headed back to his new apartment, checking his watch. Yeah, he’d have time to contact the vet Dawn had suggested before going over to Mary Jane’s.

  He let Maverick out to explore the backyard while he sat on a picnic table under a large maple tree. He checked his phone to find the vet’s number and punched it in, gathering his thoughts. This might be complicated to explain.

  “Hello, Mountain Veterinary Clinic. This is Beth speaking,” a woman’s warm voice greeted him. She sounded compassionate. Just the sort you’d want working in a veterinary office.