Tucker
I needed a therapy dog to help me get a therapy dog. Seriously. It was like being so tired that I needed a cup of coffee just to make coffee. How many times had I stood there waiting for the machine to produce a cup of sunshine only to discover I forgot the water? One time I even poured the coffee grinds into my cup, instead of the machine. Well, this outing was like that.
I enjoyed Ryan’s company immensely, but I still felt like fleeing back to my house. I knew I had to deal with it, but that unexplained fear inside me wasn’t something I could turn on and off at will. So I stared straight ahead with a death grip on my cane and my seat. Breathing was becoming difficult.
Ryan noticed my shaking and immediately pulled over into an empty parking lot. “Are you okay, Tucker?”
I had a hard time responding and whispered, “Panic attack.”
“Oh. Okay.” Ryan turned to me, looking me in the eyes. “Listen to my voice and concentrate on taking slow, deep breaths.” He grabbed my left hand from my seat and put my hand in his. “Feel my hand, Tucker. Concentrate on its warmth, listen to my voice, breath in deep and slow. In and out. I’m right here with you. I know you can do this. In and out.”
I did as Ryan instructed. I started to feel myself come down from that mental ledge. His voice was soothing, and I swear I felt him give me strength through his hand. I felt warmth spread throughout my body and soon I was calm, my mind at peace.
I turned my head and stared into his soulful brown eyes. “Thank you. I was having trouble breathing. It happened so fast.”
“We’re almost there, but we can turn back if you want.”
“No no. I’m okay now. I need to do this. Going out with you is the first time I’ve gone anywhere besides the doctors or my folks in many months.”
“Well, normally I pick a dog by myself, but I felt in your instance, it was important you picked with me.”
“I’m glad. I want to. Let’s go. I’m good now.” We were still holding hands.
Ryan gently removed his hand and started driving again with occasional glances my way, checking on me. I felt okay. I felt even renewed. I was embarrassed a little, but I felt no judgment from him, so that was a relief.
I studied his profile while he drove, and that helped soothe me too. He was so damn handsome, intelligent, kind, and strong. He always was. He was perfect. How could I have ever left him? What a fool I was.
Ryan’s face lit up and once we pulled into the parking lot of a large animal shelter. “We’re here,” he stated as he turned off the car. He then touched my hand again. “How’re you doing? Are we good?”
I smiled at him, then unbuckled my seat belt and grabbed my cane from the seat behind us. “I’m good. Really good.” I opened my door.
He opened his door and we met up at the front of his car. “Okay then, let’s go see if the right dog’s waiting for you.”
As we approached the entrance, I looked into a huge window where I could see giant wood perches, branches, and a rug-covered tube playground: a paradise for cats.
We walked through two sets of doors into the main entrance to be greeted by frolicking cats and kittens. It was quite a sight. I was expecting cages and misery, but instead the fun of cats at play greeted us. I was mightily impressed by the sight.
Ryan noticed my smile. “Pretty cool, huh? You’ll find that for a shelter, this is the best one an animal could hope to land in.”
I looked around in wonder and nodded. I noticed a huge pet supply gift shop to the right and a hallway with a sign on the corner stating ‘Vet Care/Playrooms/Office’ just past it.
In the center of the welcome area was a large round reception desk, with one woman at the helm checking people in. To our left was the rest of the glassed cat enclosure, with potential adopters milling around with the cats. A hallway on that side had a sign that stated ‘Groomers/Kitchen/Laundry.’
Then I noticed a large sign stating ‘Dog Kennels’ above two doors straight ahead of us.
Ryan signed us in as he chatted with the shelter greeter. He was kind enough to not introduce me to her, though I suspected the young woman recognized me anyhow as she kept looking my way. She radioed ahead to someone to let them know we were on our way. Then we walked through the double doors, into a cool air-conditioned kennel room. A slight smell of disinfectant permeated throughout, and the various pitches of persistent barking greeted us.
A cheerful volunteer wearing a blue apron approached us. The hub where we stood was a room to store supplies, with a wash basin and leashes hanging from the wall.
“It’s so great to see you again, Ryan. How’s that poodle doing?”
“I am happy to report that he graduated and is with his new owner now.”
“That’s awesome news! Well, I guess I’ll leave you two to it.”
Ryan opened a glass door to the dog wings. “Let’s start down the right side and we’ll take it from there.”
I looked inside the kennels and couldn’t believe how advanced they were. Each dog had its own kennel with access to the outside, its own running water into a fountain, large cots with washable bedding, toys, and a bowl of food.
It was nothing like I had imagined it would be. It was respectful to the dogs, just like the front playroom was to the cats. I decided on the spot they would be getting a series of hefty donations from me from then on. What better use for all the cash I had lying around?
Ryan noted, “They have a vet on staff 24/7 here. Every animal is given a thorough exam, any medical treatment it requires, full shots, and spay and neutering should they require it. They also have volunteers who do some basic training with the dogs to make them more adoptable. Sometimes I volunteer my services here too.”
“That sounds like a long, expensive process.”
“Not as much as you’d think. Every single person here is a volunteer, except for the shelter manager and the animal control officers. No one wants to take money away from the animals. The shelter even gets its power and water for free from the local utilities companies, and their supplies have also been donated to them. Transportation and the maintenance of the vehicles and the facility are all from donations by various businesses.”
All I could think to say was, “Incredible!”
We toured several wings and saw many dogs who seemed friendly enough to me. Ryan didn’t seem quite convinced about any of them, however, and kept us moving toward the back.
I stopped walking when I saw a dog who looked to be in worse shape than I was. This thin black shepherd leaned against the back wall as she sat, head hung low with drool dripping from her mouth. I put my cane up against the outside of the kennel and looked over at Ryan.
He winced at the sight of the dog. “Tucker, it looks a little worse for wear and isn’t acting friendly. I don’t know.”
I looked back at the dog, feeling the pull of some unknown force. This dog looked the way I felt. Broken. Helpless. I didn’t know what her story was. She looked like she was still a puppy. I felt a need to make her happy, especially when her eyes flitted up to mine for just a hopeful moment.
Ryan took the clipboard off her door and read the paperwork. “Wow. It says here she’s eight months old. And that she refused to leave her deceased owner’s side when police arrived. She has been despondent ever since. The report from the behavior specialist says she is super sweet and not shy per se, just sad. The write-up says she already had some training by her owner and sits, stays, and comes on command.”
I looked at Ryan, hoping what he read meant she could be a candidate. “I don’t think it’s fair to judge her based on how she’s acting in this cage. I know I’d look pretty pathetic too if I was in her situation.”
Ryan hesitated. “I don’t know. The trauma might make it harder to train her.”
“She sounds like a loyal dog to me.”
He relented. “All right. I’ll go inside and see if we can coax her out for a walk with us.”
My leg was hurting pretty badly from all the walking we had done so far, so the thought of more walking made me grimace. “I saw a bench just outside by the outdoor runs. I’m going to head out over there and wait for you two.”
“Sure, sure. We’ll be right over.” Ryan smiled encouragingly at me, then entered the kennel slowly.
I wished I could have stayed to see how the meeting went, but fire was shooting down my leg and all I could think about was sitting down. I found my way outside and sat on a bench I had spied when we were walking around earlier. I placed my cane to my side and sunk down, relieved to get the weight off my legs.
It felt so good just sitting there with the cool spring breeze blowing. The sound of the dogs barking didn’t bother me even though it was kind of loud. My stomach was turning anxiously again, this time about that sweet dog. It felt like an eternity while I waited for them to show up.
Ryan walked around the corner with her on a leash. She had her head down and walked by his side. He walked her up to me where I was sitting on the edge of the bench. She pulled the leash a little then, and sat right in front of me, facing me. I leaned forward and pet her thick neck. She then rested her head inside the crook of my right arm and let out a quiet whimper.
I teared up. “We’re taking her.” I never took my eyes off her, and used my left arm to hug her.
In my peripheral I saw Ryan nod. “Of course,” he said. I heard something in his voice, but didn’t look up at him, so engrossed in this sensation I never felt before. I loved this dog instantly, with all of my heart. I knew I came here looking for a dog to help me, but all I could think about was helping her. Making her happy again.
She must have loved her previous owner immensely. I had such respect for that unconditional love. I knew in my heart from that moment on I would always have a dog in my life.