“What’s his story?” Nick asked, still focused on the dog.
Megan leaned back against the painted brick wall. “His owner was in the military and left Frank with family while he was on deployment. Unfortunately, he never came home from his tour, so Frank ended up here.”
Nick felt it like a punch to the gut. He could barely draw breath. Since he’d returned home, he’d been tormented by thinking about the people in his unit who hadn’t gotten to go home themselves, and here was a dog who was suffering for the exact same reason.
Harper crouched beside him, but said to Megan, “Is he sick?”
“Nope, he’s depressed. He’s been like this since he arrived. The staff has tried all sorts of strategies to get him to engage, but no dice. We even have trouble getting him to eat. It’s like he’s given up hope.”
Trying not to look big and menacing, Nick got down on his stomach and wriggled over to the dog. He held out his hand, and Frank lifted his head, sniffed in the hand’s general direction and dropped his head to his front legs again. Every protective instinct Nick had reared up.
“What’s the plan for Frank?” he asked, speaking softly so as not to spook the dog now that he was closer.
“Best-case scenario,” Megan said, “he’s adopted by someone who understands his situation and emotional state, and they’re patient and loving while he recovers.”
“Worst-case scenario?” he asked, not taking his eyes off Frank.
“He stays here longer and gives up a little more each day.”
Nick held back a shudder. That wasn’t going to happen. “Other options?”
“We find him a foster home, so he’s out of the shelter while he heals, then he gets adopted.”
He looked over at this sad dog who’d lost his human due to the same war that haunted Nick. Frank clearly couldn’t stay in the shelter, and what he needed wasn’t a temporary foster home. This dog needed someone to commit to him. Someone who’d stay and have his back. Someone who’d never let him down.
Nick drew in a deep breath. He might not have been able to save every man in his unit, but he could save Frank.
He glanced over at Harper, one questioning eyebrow raised, and Harper nodded.
Nick threw Megan a look over his shoulder. “What paperwork do I have to fill out to adopt this dog?”
* * *
Harper leaned to look in the backseat of Nick’s car at the sad dog who hadn’t yet realized his fortunes had turned. All in all, she was pretty pleased with her night’s work.
Nick started the engine and said, “We don’t have any of the things at home Frank will need.”
“Hang on.” She picked up her cell to check online for the nearest pet supplies store. “There’s a place not too far away that’s still open.” She gave him the directions, and he turned the car.
When they reached the store, she stayed in the car with Frank while Nick ducked in to grab what they needed.
“So, Frank,” she said once they were alone, “you’ll like Nick. We’re both pretty lucky he picked us.”
Though luck might have had a bit of a nudge in Frank’s case. Since Emily had urged her at their lunch yesterday to “do something,” Harper’s mind had been whirring. She’d researched and found two pieces of interesting information. First, programs that matched former military personnel suffering from PTSD with trained service dogs who could intervene and head off some of the symptoms were seeing some amazing outcomes. Getting Nick a trained service dog would have been the ideal solution, but there was a waiting list. She’d made a mental note to do something about fund-raising for the group that was training the dogs to help them help more veterans.
In the meantime, she’d found another piece of useful information—one recommendation for PTSD sufferers was to do something to help someone else. Nick was so concerned about letting someone down again, she wasn’t sure he was ready to do that yet. But then she’d wondered, what if the someone who needed help wasn’t a person...?
One call to the Royal Safe Haven Animal Shelter and she’d found the perfect dog. The fact that Frank had lost as much to war as Nick had meant they were perfect for each other. Megan had said Frank would need someone dedicated to help him get through his depression, and the look on Nick’s face when he’d asked for the paperwork to adopt the dog had told her all she needed to know about that.
Helping Frank would help Nick. And, hopefully, they might even be able to get Frank some training to help Nick even more after that. Win-win.
Nick emerged with his arms full and loaded the bags in the trunk. When he slid into the driver’s seat again, she said, “All for Frank?”
“Just a few things to get us started—food, a bed, collar and leash, treats and toys.”
“Just to get us started?” His arms had been so full that Harper would have needed two trips to bring all the purchases out.
He arched an eyebrow. “Didn’t you tell Ellie you had dogs before?”