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“Okay, I get what you’re saying. But if happily ever after shouldn’t be the target. What’s the goal?”
“Community. Purpose. Effort. Love, and—” He tangled his fingers into hers as she stopped him, finishing that sentence with a kiss.
Bob came in. “Sorry to interrupt.” The door began to shut.
“Bob, come back,” Olivia called. “It’s okay.”
Beowolf plodded in wearing a “service dog in training vest.” He came over and thrust his head onto Nutsbe’s lap.
“He missed you,” Bob said, letting the lead drop.
“I missed him,” Olivia bent and kissed Beowolf’s head. “Hey, buddy. Looks like you’re wearing a new uniform.”
“Came to talk to you about that,” Bob said, leaning a shoulder into the wall. “Reaper and Command made the call. Beowolf has been retired from the court program.”
“What’s going to happen to Beowolf then?” Olivia asked, her voice colored with worry.
“Well, that’s what I want to talk to Nutsbe about. I explained to Reaper how Beowolf responds to you and how he gets mopey every time you bring him back to me. It occurred to us that you might be amenable to adopting Beowolf and having him work with you as a service dog. Reaper says that Beowolf needs little training to fill that role, mostly domestic commands.”
“Like what?” Nutsbe asked.
“Bring me a beer.” Bob shot him a grin.
“He can do that?” Olivia scooted her hips up the bed to sit upright.
“Open a fridge and get you a beer?” Bob asked. “That’s easy.”
“I could see how that might be a problematic skill for a dog to have. Especially if you’ve just gone to the store.” Olivia smiled.
Nutsbe locked eyes with Beowolf. His?
“Brother, you totally held your own against two brawlers with weapons. This is in no way a sign of disrespect.”
“I’m not reading it that way. I’m just not sure I qualify for using a service dog, is all.”
“You absolutely do. I saw Thorn getting your chair out of his vehicle in the parking lot. There are days that, for whatever reason, you use your chair. And having Beowolf with you is just an added layer of protection and peace of mind, a little extra help. He can pick things up that you dropped, open doors, pull your chair.”
“Go on beer runs.” Nutsbe grinned.
“Exactly.” Bob extended a drool rag to Olivia and another one to Nutsbe.
“Look, Noah performs your position with Cerberus. His stability service dog, Hairyman, is always by his side; if Hairy wasn’t, a mother and her two small children would have drowned. Right? You never know when a K9 will make the difference.”
“Besides,” Olivia added. “Beowolf has been mopey and sad.”
“He wants Henrietta’s fine company,” Nutsbe leaned over and put his forehead to Beowolf’s.
“Would you deny him that?” Olivia asked.
“Of course not. Of course, I’ll take Beowolf in as my dog. Grateful to have him, Bob. I guess I’m caught on the service dog part of that.”
“Service dogs can go anywhere the public can.”
“Not easily, and not his size,” Nutsbe said. “How long does it take to train a service dog?”
“Not long. He has all of his public behaviors down. We can teach him to open doors. How to wear a stability harness if that’s ever an issue.”
“Which is all great. It means he can be in the office with me. But there are times I can’t take on his care. I have to have one hundred percent focus on my team.”
