Page 45 of Just One Silver Fox

“No luck?” Sonia asked sounding like she was smiling.

“Not a chance,” Nate said, shaking his head at the memory. “He bared his teeth at the nurse and growled. I managed to say ‘his guardian angel’ and the nurse half-laughed. She had to give it up. I heard the hatch close and we rolled. I was watching that dog watch the guy when I passed out. If he could have willed him to get better, he would have done it.”

“You like dogs?” It was a therapy question but not a bad one.

Nate went with it. “We always had one when I was a kid. Always a spayed female. Always from the pound, usually a rescue. They were always my dogs. I walked them and played with them, fed them and they slept in my bed. My mom called each one my guardian angel.”

“I can imagine you, running all over the place, getting into trouble, with a dog right behind you,” Sonia teased.

“Yeah. It was great. I had it good growing up. Absolutely classic.” Nate swallowed and continued his story. It was easy to tell Sonia about that night, while they were entangled in her bed in the darkness, when he was safe again. “I must have slept, but I woke up suddenly. Startled. Probably everyone else did, too, because the dog started to howl. It was a low sound first, just a bit of a growl, but it grew in volume to a kind of a wail. It made the hair stand up on the back of my neck and gave me the shivers. He was still on the stretcher, staring at the guy, but he was pawing at the guy’s arm. Agitated. I knew. I knew before the nurse even came.”

“Knew what?”

“He’d died.”

“Oh,” Sonia whispered.

“The nurse finally got to his side—we were flying through some turbulence, so it wasn’t easy—and checked on him. Her posture said it all when she straightened. She even patted the dog and told it to shush. But that dog wasn’t going to be quiet, not with his buddy gone. He was heartbroken. That was his person and now he was alone. Even then, I understood exactly how he felt.”

“Even then?” Sonia echoed but Nate ignored the question.

“I managed to pat the side of my stretcher and whistle a little. I don’t know why I did it. Old habits. He looked and then he came, jumping up and landing against me with a thud. He dropped like a huge sack of potatoes. It hurt but I didn’t care. He curled up against my chest and I put my arm around him, just the way I used to sleep with my dogs when one of us was sick or hurting. I had my face in the scruff of his neck.” Nate closed his eyes and felt he could be there again. “I remember the smell of his fur, dust and cordite and dog, and I remember how warm he was. He was an aggressive cuddler, nearly pushing me out of the stretcher, and his nose against my arm was as cold as ice. He was still watching the guy and whimpering at intervals, but it was like he understood. The last thing I saw was the nurse’s face. She wasn’t thrilled.” Nate chuckled at the memory. “Just not a dog person.”

“She probably was concerned with germs.”

“Sure, but we weren’t exactly in a sanitary environment.” Nate fell silent, remembering the persistent dust and sand.

“What happened next?” Sonia prompted gently.

“I don’t know. I woke up sometime the next day or maybe even after that. It was after my surgery.”

“And the dog was there?”

“Of course not. I was in a military hospital.”

“But what happened to him?”

“That’s the thing no one could tell me for sure,” Nate said. “At least not right away. When I was in rehab, I asked a lot of questions and did some research. It gave me a bit of a quest, something to think about other than myself. Seemed Rex had lost his skill to find explosives. That often happens when the dog is traumatized. On some level, they don’t want anything to do with the job anymore.”

“You can’t blame them for that.”

“No, so he’d been given an honorable discharge, just like me. I would have adopted him in a heartbeat, but the handler’s family had taken him. The handler or his family are often given first choice when a service dog is discharged.” He found his throat tightening in memory of a dog who had to be long gone. “I had to be sure, you know. I had to check on him.”

“You went there,” Sonia guessed. “After you got home.”

Nate nodded. “I borrowed a car from my Uncle Jed and I drove to North Dakota where the family had a farm. I wasn’t sure what I’d say so I didn’t contact them in advance. I just went. I knew the Marine and his wife had three kids. They were playing with the dog when I got there, just the way I used to peel around with my dogs. You could tell that all of them were happy together. Rex was healthy and active. It was all good.” He fell silent, his throat working at the memory.

“What did they say to you?”

“Nothing at first. I didn’t have anything really to offer that guy’s family except I’d been there at the end. I hadn’t even known his name until I did my research. I was going to just leave, but Rex saw me, then ran for me.”

“He remembered you,” Sonia whispered.

“Oh yeah. I never expected that, but they don’t forget easily. And I couldn’t walk away then. He was doing the bark of joy and circling around me.”

“The bark of joy?” There was laughter in Sonia’s tone.

“You never had a dog, did you?”

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