by Dale Mayer
Brock went still. “That’s got to be a full-time job, trying to find homes for the animals, particularly if they have special needs.”
“Not for her. She has the time, the patience and the inclination. But there’s a very large sector of society who think we should just shoot them.”
Sidney lowered her gaze, studying the lines of his face. “Are you one of them?”
“Hell, no. I’d just as soon shoot people and leave the animals in control,” he said. “Anybody who can help animals gets my vote.”
“Well, Dani’s always looking for help. So if you’re bored and you want to volunteer somewhere, there’s always stuff to do.”
He studied her carefully. “What kind of volunteering?”
Stan laughed. “That’s what got Aaron into trouble. Now, he’s going to be a permanent fixture.” He pushed his chair back and stood. “If you want to come downstairs and help in my section, you’re always welcome to. Every one of those animals needs to be loved and cuddled the same as every human. Then, there’s always the issue of cleaning cages, taking animals for walks, taking them outside to do their business, etcetera. There is never a shortage of things that need to be done around here.”
Sidney watched him walk away.
“He seems to really care,” Brock said.
“He’s been here for a long time, and he really does care. He’s helped thousands of animals that would’ve otherwise been put down.”
“It’s a very strange place here, having animals and people together.” He played with the handle on his coffee cup and then raised his gaze to Sidney. “Not bad … just … unique.”
Sidney nodded. “There needs to be more creative thinking when it comes to healing,” she said. “I’ve heard of several old-folks’ homes opening day care on the premises. Having little children around isn’t for everyone,” she said. “But for many seniors it’s been a godsend. It’s poured new life into their lives. As long as it’s open, and people can come and go when they want to, and it’s not overwhelming with the noise and the crying of younger children, it seems to work out well. These are just a few pilot projects, but I’d love to see similar ideas spread across the country. I think the same applies for animals. Just as we have therapy dogs and therapy pets we bring into old-folks’ homes and day care, hospitals and hospices, there’s no reason not to have them on a more permanent basis, like here. In fact, this was originally a veterinarian school. Then Dani’s father, the Major, altered it. It was a slow process, but this is the end result.”
“The Major?”
Sidney laughed. “If you haven’t met him yet, you will know him when you see him. He makes a point of stopping in to talk to everybody. He’s in his late sixties, and he has white, bushy hair and a big, white beard.”
A comical look came over Brock’s face. “I’ve met him. I just now realized who he was.”
“He and his daughter Dani, who you’ve met, as she was the one that would’ve brought you in and set you up originally, worked together until he eventually turned the reins over to her. She handles all the transfers and the company side of stuff. Every time I turn around, she’s expanding and bringing on more staff.” Sidney laughed and shook her head. “Actually, I’m blessed to be here. I’ve been doing training back and forth, and updating my own skills. And thankfully, every time I’m done, there’s always a job here for me.”
“That says a lot about how they feel about you, then,” Brock said. “I have to admit that after what I saw today, you’re very talented.”
“Talented?” That surprised her. She sat back and studied Brock. “What we went through today took talent?”
A small smile played at the corners of his mouth. “You got me to work today,” he said. “You let me put out effort I didn’t realize I even had inside anymore. That took talent.”
She laughed. “That took motivation—on my side and yours.” She glanced at his cup and stood. “I’ll grab a second cup for you while I get one for myself, if you like.”
She said it so casually, he didn’t feel like it was being done because he was incapable of going to get it on his own. Because of that, he nodded and said, “Thank you.” He also didn’t want to curtail the social visit. She was a fascinating woman. It seemed like it had been a hell of a long time since he’d seen anything other than that cloud over his head. Not that it was gone. And it certainly wasn’t likely to ever go away completely, but for the first time, he’d left it in a corner. He was able to see little bit more of the world than when he’d locked himself in and away from it all. It was something he hadn’t even been aware he was doing, but somehow he’d put up all these walls and kept the world out.
It had taken a very interesting and magnetic personality for him to even realize what he had done. He knew how wrong a relationship between a patient and therapist would be in many cases, but he also knew of several that had worked out. It was also way too early to consider anything beyond having a cup of coffee. But he had to admit that she pricked his interest, like no one else had in years. Even in the years before he had his accident. His last long-term relationship was four years ago. That hadn’t ended so much as dwindled away into nothing.
As he sat, pondering the changes in his circumstances, he couldn’t say if it was the location, or the change of venue, or even Sidney herself. But there was a small kernel of hope inside. Maybe he would see his way out of this mess. It always irritated him that people who weren’t depressed had the best of advice for those that were. None of it made any difference because when you were depressed you couldn’t see a way forward, no matter whether you did all the stuff people seemed to think you could do or not. You couldn’t just force yourself to be happy. That just made you mad and angry and more depressed.
“Here you go.” A cup of coffee was placed down in front of him.
He smiled. “Thank you very much.”
“No problem.” She put her own coffee down, and then turned and walked over to the other side of the deck. He watched her go. There was a very large black man, missing both legs, sitting, basking in the warm glow of the afternoon sunshine. Sidney reached down and gave him a hug. The two laughed and joked for a minute before she turned and headed back toward Brock. He didn’t want it to seem like he was watching what she was doing, so he turned his attention to the rolling, green hills around him.
He swore he could be anywhere from California to Kentucky from the look of the place. It was stunning—the simplicity and healing energy. Maybe that was what made the difference. Maybe just being around people who had a different attitude made a difference. People came on the clock and did whatever they had to do and they left. Just as he was reaching for the cup of coffee, Sidney stepped in front of him.
His gaze started to move up to her face but stopped halfway. In her hands, she held one of the smallest critters he’d ever seen.
“What is it?”
A tiny little bark came out of it in reply.
“He’s a very small Chihuahua cross,” Sidney said with a smile. “He’s had a really rough couple of years. His bones didn’t grow properly, so he doesn’t walk or jump well. But being here is bit of a godsend in that sense, as he doesn’t ever seem to be on the ground. Somebody is always carrying him.”
She reached out her hands. “Brock, meet Chickie. Chickie, meet Brock.”
Brock stared at the small dog with its massive chocolate eyes. The little dog barked, but it came out as a tiny yelp. He shook his head in wonder. Instinctively, his hands reached out, taking up the little dog and bringing it closer to his chest. “He’s so small.”
“He’s fully grown. Chickie’s four years old.”
With a satisfied smile, Sidney sat back down across from Brock and picked up her coffee. “Isaac over there tends to have Chickie on a full-time basis, but Chickie really belongs to everybody. He lives here full-time. He’s a special-needs dog, and Stan looks after him. The staff here have incorporated him in with the therapy animals.”
He could hear
the words floating across the room. He understood what she was saying, but his attention was completely fixed on the tiny animal in his arms. His heart broke and proceeded to melt all over him. He gently scratched the animal behind his ears. Chickie had no problem cuddling in against his chest. He didn’t do anything but drop his head and stare up at Brock. In fact, if Brock didn’t know better, he would have been sure Chickie was saying, “More please, more.” He couldn’t imagine an animal being this content. “He has some very un-dog-like qualities,” he said. “I’m half expecting him to purr.”
Sidney laughed. “You’re not the first to mention that. He’s got a very laid-back personality, and because he doesn’t jump and bark much, and has a fairly sedentary lifestyle, he’s very catlike. He’s quite content to curl up on your shoulder or sit in your lap—he does like it to be warm. One of his health issues is his body temperature is a little harder to regulate, so he’s a happy camper when he’s tucked up against somebody’s body.”
“He’s beautiful,” Brock said. He was horrified to hear his voice break. Moisture burned in the corners of his eyes. Oh, dear God, he hadn’t cried in a decade. He certainly wasn’t about to break down over a tiny dog. The instinctive impulse to give him back to Sidney was so strong, but at the same time, he couldn’t bear to be parted from the small animal that was so damned accepting.
“We do have one rule here regarding the animals,” she said. “Please don’t feed any of them table scraps. With so many of you, the minute that becomes a thing, it’s almost impossible to stop the animals—particularly the dogs—from eating everything in sight. In Chickie’s case, his system is very delicate.”
Brock raised his gaze and studied the number of people in the kitchen area. “Not to mention every one of them would have a weight issue within seconds at this place.” He gently stroked a hand down Chickie’s back. “It’s a habit for most humans to share with their pets.”
“Which is why I’m very specifically telling you we can’t. The last time somebody fed Chickie a piece of meat off their plate, he ended up with a bowel blockage. That’s not fun for anybody.”
Just when he thought he should hand Chickie back, the little dog dropped from a sitting position, and curled up in his lap. That just broke his heart a little more as Chickie tucked his head to the side and went to sleep.
Chapter 5
Even the next morning Sidney was holding that picture close as she headed into her office—Brock cuddling Chickie. Chickie had been the happiest dog ever, and who could blame him? He was protected and loved—the two basic needs for any living thing. It was nice to see Brock in another light, as a big softie. But she knew he hadn’t been brought to this place because he was a great patient. They had replaced his therapist four times already because he hadn’t been a motivated man. That he’d worked for her yesterday was not something she was prepared to count on happening again tomorrow, or the day after. People often gave their all, and then backed off. Some things were just too hard to deal with on a regular basis. It was her job to keep him going.
Maybe she should bring Chickie into the sessions.
She smiled at that. Several times they had been tempted to bring animals up from downstairs. To show these men and women just how an animal was forced to deal with many of the same problems without all the support systems people had. Animals adapted much better than humans.
She snagged another cup of coffee on her way back to her desk, even though she didn’t really need it. It was probably the fourth cup today, already. That was something she should look at trying to control. Too much coffee was never a good thing. She had broken the habit before, but going back to school had started her drinking it again.
As soon as she sat down, Shane walked over and placed his hands on the desk, leaning over to stare down at her. “You’ve been back a whole day, and I’ve hardly even seen you.”
She leaned back and smiled up at him. Shane was one of those all-round nice guys. That didn’t mean he was dull as dishwater, but for her, he was definitely not a super-exciting type of person. He was a friend, and a good one, and she had needed to cry on his shoulder more than once before. She propped her chin on her hand and said, “I haven’t had time to do anything but breeze by.”
He laughed. “Yep, we’re pretty busy. You came back at a good time.”
Sidney nodded. “So Dani said. She’s already setting up interviews to bring more people on. There is a chance that Willa might come back.”
Shane straightened at that. “That would be awesome if she could. I thought she was going to med school or something like that.”
“I’m not sure if it was med school,” Sidney said. “I do know she went back for more education but thought it was more therapy stuff.”
“We probably don’t need more therapists, but we could sure use some more physios.”
“We never have trouble getting new people. This is an awesome place to work.”
Shane walked back over to his desk and sat down, propping his feet up on the corner of the wooden surface. “You’ve been here for years now. It’s been five years for me, almost six I think.”
“Only six years,” she joked. “I arrived just before you. I can see you being here for decades.”
At that moment, two more physiotherapists walked in. The conversation turned to the general care of individual patients. As she participated in the conversation, Sidney was interested to hear nobody brought up the subject of Brock. Was he that difficult that nobody wanted to talk about him? Or was it because she was now handling his case, and they were waiting for her to bring him up? She didn’t have a lot to say yet. Not until things got into more of a routine. Then maybe there’d be something to talk about.
She checked her watch and realized it was time to start moving. She stood and grabbed a manila folder off the desk. “Back to work for me.”
As she walked out the door, Shane called behind her, “Don’t forget, paperwork counts as work, too!”
She waved back with a smile. “Yeah, but that’s the kind I don’t like doing.”
With the file in her hand, she headed down the hallway toward the large exercise room. She walked in and noted it was empty, which meant Andrew, her next patient, was running a little behind. She walked over to the large floor mats and double-checked everything was arranged and clean. She brought out two large exercise balls. Andrew had done phenomenally well since he’d arrived. He been here four months already and was looking forward to leaving in the next couple of weeks. She was fine-tuning his core muscles—even more important in his case, as he was actually missing both legs. But unlike a lot of patients, his attitude had always been excellent. Then again, he had a loving, supportive family who adored him—a wife and kids. He had a lot to live for. They all wanted him home in whatever shape he came in. It was his choice to go home as best as he could.
“There you are,” a deep voice rumbled. “I’m Andrew.”
Sidney turned to see Andrew walking in. He had running blades on the bottoms of his legs.
“Nice to meet you, Andrew. I’m Sidney.” She grinned. “Look at you go. Aren’t you the pro?”
“I’ve been wearing these for weeks. You just haven’t been here. You were off lazing about in school, instead of being here where the real work was being done.”
She laughed. “I know I wasn’t the one working with you before, but I can see your progress from your file. You’ve done some awesome work.”
He sat down on the ball as she watched, seeing confirmation in his gait she’d hoped to see. “What are we doing today?”
“Lots, but first take off both your prosthetic limbs.”
He stared down at his metal legs. “There’s just something really unnerving about not having them on now.”
She nodded. “That’s because they have become a crutch. Good ones, but a crutch nonetheless. They’re great tools, but we tend to forget you have a lot of work to do without them.” She opened his file. “I see you’ve done a lot of work on the upp
er body, and that’s awesome. Obviously, you’ve done a lot of work on your thighs, and that’s great, too. What I really need to see and test is how you are doing without them.”
He looked at her and grimaced. “It’s not very comfortable to work without them, anymore. I can, but it’s much nicer with. They’ve become an extension of me.”
“Exactly, that’s the point,” she said quietly. “We just have to make sure the base is as strong as can be, so if you don’t have them you are just as strong.”
He groaned, but he reached down and unclipped both of his prosthetics and dropped them to the side.
She walked over and picked them up carefully, and then laid them on the empty desk they had there for occasional use. She started him off doing simple core exercises on the ball while she watched. As she suspected, he’d been very good at hiding the weaknesses. His shoulders moved well, his arms and upper body strength were great, but every time he tried to do crossovers, or anything involving the lower back, there was an ever-so-slight pull, or he winced when he had to bring his other, stronger, muscles into play. That was what she needed to see. Because the body compensated, she needed to get the weaker muscles to step up and do their job. Most patients tried to avoid pain. They became very adept at making it look like everything was just perfect for the therapists. She had the benefit of fresh eyes. She could see where he was getting away with not doing the full job he needed to do.
That was too damned bad because he was going to hurt soon. But by the time he walked out of here in a couple of weeks, he would know what she meant. In the meantime, she sighed. She wondered how many times he was going to ask to go to the other therapists. They worked in teams here but sometimes a patient had a preference and the center tried to accommodate as much as possible.
She found out soon enough because his first request came at the end of that day. Daunted and tired, she walked out onto the deck and slammed down the stairs. Her day was done, dinner was ready, but she was too damned tired to even go over there. She could hear splashing in the pool below and thought maybe a swim would help.
