Rescuing Finley (A Forever Home Novel Book 1) Read online

  This was way better news than Chris had expected coming in here. He could definitely have a service dog without having to move, and they even trained them locally. Well, he’d still have to verify that point. But this was very encouraging. He reached out his hand, “I can’t thank you enough for all your help.”

  “It was my pleasure. Really, it’s an honor to help someone like you. Do you still want to talk to the manager when she gets back?”

  “Nope. I’ve got everything I need. If you wouldn’t mind, maybe you could brief her on what we talked about, so it wouldn’t be a complete shock if I do wind up getting one of these dogs.”

  “I’ll be happy to do that. Thanks for stopping in.”

  Chris headed back toward his car with plans to go online as soon as he got to his apartment.

  33

  Kim finally got to sit at her desk after a half-dozen interruptions had greeted her when she’d walked through the door thirty minutes ago. She turned to face her computer screen and set her just-poured mug of coffee beside her keyboard. Hopefully, no more interruptions while she answered her emails, so she could sip her coffee while it was hot.

  Her phone rang.

  She was tempted to ignore it, but she couldn’t. She picked up the receiver, hoping it would at least be something she could solve in a few moments. A quick question and a quick answer. “Hi, this is Kim.”

  “Hey Kim, this is Sandy out here at the front desk.” Sandy was a volunteer who answered the lobby phone three times a week. “I’ve got a young man on the phone, a former Marine who says he saw a video online with you in it. Something to do with training dogs out at the prison. Do you have a minute to talk with him?”

  “Sure Sandy, put him through.”

  “Hello. This is Kim Harper, the Animal Behavior Manager at the Humane Society. How can I help you?”

  “Hi Kim. Glad I got you. I’m on a ten minute break here at work. I’ve only got a few minutes left. My name’s Chris, by the way. Chris Seger.”

  “You must start work pretty early to already be on break.” It was just a little past eight-thirty.

  “I come in at 6AM. I mow grass out here at the Summerville Golf Course.”

  “Oh. Well Chris, our receptionist mentioned something about you watching a video that I was in. Something to do with the prison program that trains dogs for veterans?”

  “Yeah. I got a phone call from a friend of mine. We both struggle with PTSD issues. He was all excited about a new service dog he’d gotten. He was talking like this dog had completely turned things around for him. I started thinking…maybe I should look into it.”

  “How long have you been home?” Kim asked.

  “Two years. Spent most of that time in and out of hospitals. Mostly surgery and therapy.”

  “So you’ve got more than PTSD to deal with?”

  “Yeah, but I’m not in a wheelchair. It’s a long story. Probably take too long to explain right now. I was talking with someone in my apartment office last night. Went in there to see if I could even have a dog. Found out I can, if it’s a certified service dog. The gal I was talking to mentioned this news story she had seen. I found the video on YouTube. That’s how I got your name.”

  “Well, I’m glad you did. And you’re right, there is a program out at the prison that trains dogs to help veterans. And I’m very involved with it. In fact, I’m one of the people who selects the dogs that get trained for the program. Some of these programs just train dogs to be companion dogs, meaning dogs who just provide emotional support and friendship. Our dogs do that, but it also trains dogs to help veterans with PTSD.”

  “So, the dogs out there are service dogs?”

  “They are.”

  “That’s great. Do you know if there are any dogs available now? Or how much something like this would cost?”

  Kim looked down at the date in the corner of her computer screen, did some figuring in her head. “The program going on right now has reached the place where they’re matching up dogs with interested veterans. It’s actually been going on for a couple of weeks. I’ll have to call out there and see if there are any left. There might be. But I don’t know off the top of my head. As for cost, there’s no charge to veterans. You just have to show that you’re capable of providing a stable home for the dogs. And obviously to take care of their practical needs. Would you like me to call and see?”

  “Definitely.” He gave her his cell phone number. “I get a break for lunch in a couple of hours, then I get off at three. If it’s better for you to call me back in between those times, just leave a message. I can’t take calls while I’m mowing, but I’ll definitely listen to them. Just let me know if there are any dogs available, and what I need to do to make this happen.”

  “Then that’s what I’ll do,” Kim said. “And Chris, if all the dogs have been spoken for, it’s not the end of the world. In about a month or so this class of dogs will graduate, and we’ll start another class almost right away.”

  “That’s good to know. Well, I better get. My break’s over. Thanks so much for your time.”

  “You’re welcome. And thanks for serving our country. I hope we’ll get to meet real soon.”

  Kim set the receiver down and released a contented sigh. That interruption didn’t hurt one bit.

  Kim had planned to call Captain Bridget out at the prison as soon as she’d hung up with Chris. But his phone call had been followed by two others; the second call involved her getting up and meeting someone in the lobby. She was back at her desk and took a sip of her now-lukewarm coffee. She dialed the prison’s number, then Bridget’s extension.

  Getting hold of Bridget was a fifty-fifty proposition, at best. This time, it worked. She recognized Bridget’s voice on the other end. “Hey Bridget, it’s Kim.”

  “Hi Kim. Nice to hear from you. What’s up?”

  “I had an interesting phone call about twenty minutes ago from a Marine, named Chris Seger. He was discharged a couple of years ago. He’s got PTSD and some kind of other injuries. He didn’t specify, and I didn’t ask. I only know he’s not in a wheelchair. But he’s interested in getting a service dog.”

  “And he called you?”

  “Yeah. He saw a video of that news story they filmed last year, where we talked all about the program. He got my name off that.” Kim told Bridget everything else she remembered about the phone call with Chris. And then added, “He seems pretty intent on getting a dog, even talked to his apartment people about it, to make sure it was okay. I said I’d call and find out if there are any dogs left. I know you’ve been inviting vets to the training sessions for a couple of weeks now. How’s it looking?”

  “Hmmm,” Bridget said. “Actually, I believe there are still two. But only two. We have a couple other vets coming out tomorrow to look at them. Is there any chance he can get out here tomorrow? Say around 9:30? If not, he might just have to wait until the next round.”

  “I don’t know. I know he works during the day. He called me on his break. All I can do is call and let him know what’s going on. Can I give him your number?”

  “Sure.”

  “Then that’s what I’ll do. He said to leave a message, so I’m not sure when he’ll call back. But I’m pretty certain he will get back with you.”

  Bridget sighed. “Sounds like we’ll be playing phone tag for a while. Maybe you should leave more in the message than simply my name and number. Why don’t you tell him that if he’d like to get a dog from this current batch, he better be out here tomorrow at 9:30. What’s his name again?”

  Kim repeated it.

  “I leave his name out at the guard desk. Could you also tell him the security procedures in your message? I’m not saying he shouldn’t try to call me, just trying to think of a way to make this happen, since I’ll only be at my desk about half the time today.”

  “No, I can do that,” Kim said. “I’m sure if he can make it out there some way, he will. By the way, which two dogs are still left?”

 
“You’re never going to believe who one of them is. Finley.”

  “Finley? No one has picked him yet? How is that possible? He’s beautiful.”

  “I know. For one thing, a lot of these guys are into pits. But I think the real reason is Amy, the girl who’s been training him. The two of them are joined at the hip.”

  “That’s good, and not good,” Kim said.

  “I know,” Bridget said. “At this stage of the game, mostly not good. But I’ve talked to Amy, and so has Rita. Amy admitted she’s been living in something of a fantasy. She says she’s ready now to do the right thing and help let him go.”

  “She’s the new girl, right?”

  “Yeah. This is her first training session. And it looks like it might be her last.”

  “She’s not working out?”

  “No, just the opposite. She’s fantastic. I haven’t told her yet, but I’ve picked her and Finley to be in the Top Five contest.”

  Kim remembered; it was a competition they always did toward the end of each class. Five dogs and their trainers were picked for a performance evaluation. The winner was announced on graduation day and selected to do a live obedience display for all the attendees.

  “If she’s doing so well, why is this Amy’s last training session?”

  “Because there’s something else she doesn’t know yet. I just found out they’ve given her some extra gain time. She’ll be getting out of here about two months after graduation day. She won’t be here long enough to train another dog.”

  34

  Chris just finished mowing the fairway on the tenth hole. He glanced down at his watch. A good time to break for lunch. He turned off the mower blades and set them in place, so he could ride a little faster. There was a nice row of shady trees in between the tenth and eleventh holes. He headed there, figuring there’d be less chance of someone hitting the mower with their golf ball.

  He was in the big mower, but he didn’t want to leave it running all through lunch. As he lowered the windows, he was thankful for a nice cross breeze blowing through. Between that and the shade he should be just fine for the next thirty minutes. Reaching back into the cooler, he pulled out a cold can of Diet Coke and a turkey-and-swiss sandwich.

  He pulled out his smartphone thinking about which podcast he might listen to, when he noticed he had a voicemail. Oh man, it could be about the dog. He tapped the app, entered his password and listened to the message:

  Hi Chris, this is Kim Harper getting back with you about the prison dog situation. I spoke with the director of the program. Her name is Captain Bridget Cummings. She told me there are only two dogs left in the current class. But also, there are a couple other veterans attending tomorrow morning’s training class for the first time. She said if you hoped to get one of the two remaining dogs you should plan to be there at tomorrow’s class. It meets out at the prison. I’m sure you can get the address info online. Be there no later than 9:30am. At the end of this message, I’ll give you her phone number. If you don’t reach her, she said to just leave a message saying whether or not you can come. I gave her your name. She said she would leave it with the security personnel at the front gate just in case you can make it. Call me if you have any other questions. Her phone number is....

  Chris repeated the phone number out loud, over and over until he could write it down. He wanted to call the lady at the prison right away, but he knew there were two important details he needed to check on first.

  Would his boss even be open to the idea of him getting a dog and bringing it to work? And second, would he let him have the time off tomorrow morning to attend the training class?

  Ten minutes later, Chris arrived back at the maintenance building. He wolfed down his sandwich on the ride here. He was glad to see Tom’s car still in the parking lot. Sometimes Tom went home for lunch. He pulled the mower into the shade of the garage and turned it off.

  Where was Jed? He didn’t see him anywhere. Jed said when Chris was ready to pitch this idea to Tom, he’d go with him. He walked all around the garage area, then out by the picnic table where Jed usually ate lunch. Still no sign of him.

  Chris walked toward Tom’s office. There was a big interior window that faced the maintenance area. Although the blinds were down, they were cracked enough to see Tom sitting at his desk eating a sub. Chris started to tense up. He hadn’t enough time to think through what he was gonna say.

  Then it was too late. Tom looked in his direction. He had seen Chris. He even waved for him to come in. Chris nodded, took a deep breath and opened the door.

  Tom set what was left of his sub on the desk. “Hey Chris. Something I can help you with?”

  Chris stepped inside, moved forward a little.

  “Have a seat.”

  The air-conditioning felt great. Chris sat in the chair. “I guess there is.”

  After Chris hesitated, Tom said, “Okay, what is it?”

  Chris thought a moment. “It’s kind of hard to explain. Guess I’ll just say it. Have you ever heard anything about vets with PTSD getting service dogs?”

  Tom got a surprised look on his face. He clearly didn’t expect the question. “Uh, well…I guess I have. I don’t know anyone with a dog like that. I mean, I know some of the guys have dogs, but not service dogs. Why?”

  “I’m seriously thinking about getting one.”

  “Really.”

  “I talked with my best friend from Afghanistan. He got discharged a few months ago. His PTSD situation, I think, is even worse than mine.” Chris immediately regretted saying that. He hadn’t talked about this kind of stuff with Tom since he was first hired. “I mean, I was actually pretty worried about him, you know, whether he’d make it or not. Well anyway, he just got one of these service dogs, the kind especially trained to help guys with PTSD. It’s amazing, the difference this dog has made. In a pretty short amount of time.”

  “That’s what I’ve heard,” Tom said. “Supposedly, they’ve even helped some guys pull back from being suicidal.”

  “Like my friend,” Chris said. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

  Tom leaned forward in his chair. “Have you ever felt…like that, Chris?”

  “What? No, not really. Well, maybe in those first few months after I got home. I’ve had some pretty low moments since then, but I haven’t gone that far. But I’m not gonna lie to you. I still do struggle most days. Sometimes several times a day. Not usually when I’m here at work, but—”

  “So how can I help? I don’t really know any organizations that work with these kind of dogs.”

  “No, it’s not that. I do know of one. Just outside of town. They train them out at the prison. I’ve been talking to a lady at the Humane Society, the one who picks the dogs for the program. She called out there for me. They’re doing a class right now. They have two dogs left, but she says I have to get out there tomorrow morning if I hope to get one. After that, they’ll probably be gone.”

  “So, you’re asking for time off tomorrow?”

  “Yes, but I think it’ll only be a couple hours. I was thinking, if you’re okay with it, I could just make up the time after three. You know, I could work till five or something.”

  Tom sat back in his chair. “I suppose we can do that. But you know it’s a lot hotter in the late afternoon here than it is in the morning.”

  “I know. But the big mower has an air-conditioned cab. I figure I can structure my day so I’m riding it in the hottest part of the day.”

  “Sounds like you’re talking about more than just tomorrow.”

  “I guess I am. I don’t know what the schedule is, but I’m guessing they’re going to have to train me how to work with this dog. Sounds like they do their training in the mornings.”

  “I see. Well, I think I’m okay with this, Chris. You’ve been totally trustworthy since you started. I know you’ll follow through on keeping your hours straight.”

  Chris sat there, trying to think of how to bring up the next thing. A much bigger t
hing.

  “Is there something else?”

  He nodded. “If I wind up getting this dog, the idea is you’re supposed to be with each other the whole time. You know, not just at home. Even in the car, in the store, at restaurants…”

  “At work?” Tom said.

  Chris nodded.

  “You want him to ride with you on the mower?”

  “No, I’m not thinking that. He’d only fit on the biggest one anyway. Besides that, I wouldn’t want him to fall off and get hurt.”

  “So what are you suggesting?”

  Chris didn’t like the new look on Tom’s face. “I can’t see shutting him up in my apartment all day every day, from when I leave at five-thirty till I get home at three-thirty. I was kind of hoping we could keep him here.” Chris’s eyes shifted toward the wall facing the outside.

  “Keep him here? Where would he be all day?”

  “I could make a pen for him outside. It’s shady all day under that live oak out back. I could visit him on my breaks. I’d pay for the materials myself. Put it together after work.”

  “Gee Chris, I don’t know about that.”

  “He wouldn’t bother a soul. I’ve already looked into it some. These dogs are super well-behaved. Very calm. Obedient.”

  “If that’s the case,” Tom said, “maybe we could build him a pen in here. I don’t think the outside idea will work. It can get pretty hot even in the shade in Florida.”

  “We could do that?”

  “I’d be open to it, if he’s as well behaved as you say. I like dogs. Maybe he’ll become something of a mascot.”

  “That would be great, Tom. And look, if it didn’t work out for some reason, I could bring him to a doggy day care somewhere.”

  “That could get expensive,” Tom said.

  “Well, I’m hoping it won’t come to that. Point is, I wouldn’t want this to give you any trouble at all. If it does, I promise I’ll make it right.”

  Tom sat forward again, put his elbows on the desk. “I appreciate that. I can’t give a final yes on something like this by myself. I’ll run it by Colonel Banks, see what he says. If he’s okay with it, then I’m willing to give it a try.” Banks was the golf course owner.