Page 3

K age

“Come on, Jake. You gotta eat.”

I pushed his food bowl closer by a few inches.

He was completely disinterested as he’d been since coming home with me.

Three days of no eating, the dog doing nothing more than lying in front of the fire.

He hadn’t come to bed with me nor wanted to take a walk.

He’d gone out and done his business, but that was it.

He peered up at me briefly before trotting away, lying down two feet away from his huge bed I’d bought for him. He’d even walked by the toys scattered on the floor. Nothing interested him. Not even steak, which I’d made the night before.

What was the deal with this boy? My gut told me he was in mourning.

Well, that made two of us. There were no signs of abuse, but something was way off.

There had to be more information about him.

Something. Anything. I wasn’t going to allow him to starve himself to death.

I took the bowl to him, hoping the change in scenery would help.

I stared out the window at the barn sitting empty on one side of the property. It was a nice building, seemingly built in the last couple of years. There was a corral in front, maybe meant for horses, but there was no sign my uncle had ever owned a horse.

Granted, what the fuck did I know about the man? Nothing.

Who died and left all their worldly belongings to a nephew they’d met maybe once or twice when the kid was too young to remember?

Jake still wasn’t eating. Fuck. I knew I wasn’t cut out for this shit.

“Buddy. We’ll figure this out. Somehow.” I was certainly no doggie psychologist. There were experts who’d tried to do that with me and had failed. But something had to give. I refused to give up on him.

I grabbed my jacket and keys, heading for the door. “Do you want to come with me?”

At least he lifted his head, but only briefly. Well, fuck.

“Okay. I’ll be back in a little while. Keep the place safe.”

A dark chuckle formed on my lips when I headed to my truck. Safe. I was probably in the safest freaking place in the world. Nowhereland, Colorado.

I jumped in and started the engine, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel as I drove. The truth was I had no clue how to handle people, but I was usually pretty good with animals. Maybe I just wasn’t cut out to be a papa dog.

Bile formed in my throat as memories pulsed through my mind. I didn’t need to think about the past any longer. At least that’s what I’d been told. Live my life. Move on. Learn to deal.

Right.

Fuck all of them.

The drive only took a few minutes and I was parked in front of the shelter. When I walked inside, the same young girl behind the counter smiled at first then scowled.

“Please don’t tell me you’re bringing him back. That’s just…”

“Cruel?” I finished for her. “Nah, but looking for any other information. He won’t eat. He won’t play. Nothing.”

She didn’t need to go get the other lady who’d been so kind. Margie walked out, taken aback as well.

“Did something happen to Jake?” she asked.

“No, but he’s almost catatonic.”

She nodded. “You didn’t leave a phone number. I found a few things that might give you something to work with. I was going to find your address and drop it off. Maybe what’s inside will help.”

“What is it?”

Margie sighed. “His former owner left a bag when he dropped Jake off with us. I was told the man was heartbroken. Sadly, I wasn’t here that day. Let me get the bag for you.”

What kind of hardship had the person gone through to make him leave his dog? I scratched my head as I waited. I wanted to do right by the pup but was even more uncertain.

When Margie returned, she had a duffle in her hand. It was the same kind of bag I’d taken with me to boot camp a hell of a long time ago.

She handed it over and I was surprised there was weight to it. “Do you mind if I look inside?”

“Of course not.”

I unzipped the bag, surprised to find at least thirty tennis balls inside. Some obviously well used and two in fresh canisters. They were obviously his favorite toy and I hadn’t bought a single ball for him. I rustled inside, finding two bowls with a name on one.

“His name isn’t Jake. It’s Tank.”

Margie smiled. “Maybe that will help.”

“Yeah, maybe.” I also noticed a sealed envelope. I pulled it out, curious but cautious. On the outside was a single line.

To the person lucky enough to get my dog

Well, fuck.

I decided to wait to read what was inside. First, I wanted to see if I could get my big man to eat something. Maybe we’d play ball first.

As soon as I walked into the house, Jake…

Tank lifted his head, but as usual, was completely disinterested.

From what I could tell, he hadn’t moved since I’d left.

I brought the bag with me into the living room, not bothering to remove my jacket.

When I sat down on the ottoman, I lowered my hand toward his head, but he didn’t respond.

We sat quietly together, just being in the same space. My mind was still processing why his former owner had dropped him off at the shelter.

I cleared my throat and unzipped the duffle.

No interest.

“Tank,” I said quietly.

He lifted his head immediately, his eyes brighter than normal. In them, I saw hope.

“So that’s your name, huh? Tank. Well, you and I need to have a talk. I know you’re missing your previous owner. You’re scared. I get it. Trust me, buddy. I’ve been where you are, unsure of who you could trust, missing what you lost.” I scratched my head, encouraged he was still paying attention.

I pulled out a single tennis ball and I’d be damned, his tail thumped once. When I rolled the yellow orb between my fingers, he perked up even more. Every muscle was tense.

Including in my body as well.

Tossing the ball, I grinned when it landed between his outstretched legs. He stared at me as if waiting for my permission.

“You can play with it, buddy. Tank.”

He chomped down, his jaws holding the toy in place.

Half laughing, I raked my hand through my hair and took out two more. This time, I lifted them into the air, dropping them so they’d bounce. His reaction was immediate. He jumped up, his tail wagging back and forth.

It was a first.

How long had it been since I’d been delighted about anything in my life? So long I couldn’t remember.

I stood, more confident than before. “How about we play some ball outside. What do you think?”

Woof!

The single bark was like a light going off in the big boy. I scratched behind his ears and he nuzzled his head against my leg.

“Come on. Let’s go.” Grabbing the bag, I jogged toward the back door. My instinct told me he was used to playing with more than one. That’s what we were going to do.

Once outside, he was a different boy, running from one side of the backyard to the other. When I tossed a single ball, he raced toward it, jumping several times until he’d captured the orb in his mouth.

I threw another.

And another.

Within seconds, I was laughing from just watching his acrobatics as he tried to collect every one of them. The momentary cease in fire caused him to drop down, his butt still in the air as he stared at me. I’d be damned if he didn’t have three balls in his mouth. What a feat.

I moved toward him, bending over and giving him a funny look. He whined.

I growled in response.

His tail thumped.

I laughed and managed to grab one ball from his mouth, tossing it immediately.

For a dog, this had to be a reawakening. Maybe he realized I wasn’t going to hurt him. Maybe fate had brought us together.

Maybe I could learn to live again through his world.

For several minutes, I tossed one ball then another until the yard was littered with them. But there were still more in the bag. Suddenly, I was slightly winded, which was laughable since I worked out every day. But this was different.

He made me different.

Only when he thumped down on the ground did I stop moving altogether, bending over and placing my hands on my knees. “You gave me a workout, Tank.”

The sounds he made were ones of happiness. A tiny bit of what he was used to.

“How about some dinner. Huh? You gotta be hungry.”

What I’d learned over the years was that dogs were often smarter than humans. He instantly dropped his ball, cocking his big head before trotting off toward the door.

A breakthrough.

For just a little while, I felt a true stab of happiness and joy.

How long would that survive?

With his old bowls replacing the cheap one I’d purchased, I filled one with food, the other with cold water from the refrigerator.

As soon as I placed them on the dog mat, he went to town.

After he’d refused to eat for several days, just being able to watch him chomp his food as if in heaven was thrilling.

Small things.

Even more content than before, I returned to the living room and the bag, finding the sealed letter. Before opening it, I made a drink, hoping the whiskey would calm my nerves. Why the fuck was I concerned about reading whatever the owner had said?

Because I could feel extreme sadness.

I sat down, taking two gulps before placing my glass on the coffee table. Just peeling the flap felt wrong, as if I was invading the previous owner’s privacy.

But I read it anyway. I knew doing so was important.

To the person lucky enough to get my dog.

First of all, thank you.

Tank is a good boy, the best dog I’ve ever had.

He’s all boy, a mix but mostly lab. He has the best personality, protective as hell. He has some special skills. I trained him for search and rescue, hoping to take him with me when I deployed.

“Ah, fuck,” I said out loud. The weight of what had already been written hit me hard.

Too hard. I took another swallow, trying to smile since Tank was already finished and had moved the bowl off the mat.

The sound as he scooted the empty bowl across the wooden floor was the best damn thing I’d heard in a long time.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t certified so I couldn’t take him. I was called up early, which is why I didn’t have time to find him a proper home. I admit I hope it’s temporary, but you never know what fate has in store.

Tank loves balls. All kinds of balls, but mostly tennis balls. I hope you got the bag of them I dropped off. And his bowls. He loves those bowls and I don’t know why. He eats almost anything if you let him. Especially cheeseburgers. American cheese is his favorite.

Anyway, he’s the greatest joy I’d ever had in my life and the greatest regret. Please take care of him for me, will ya?

Sincerely,

Corporal David Banks

AKA Tank’s dad

“Fuck.” I felt something on my leg and looked down. “Ah, buddy. I’m so sorry.” With his head on my thigh, I sat back, pulling the glass to my lips. Just stroking him. His sounds remained content, slightly heavy breathing.

When he crawled onto the couch, I closed my eyes. Maybe tonight the two of us could finally rest.