Strikes of chimes, bells, and rings erupted in the workshop, and then abruptly stopped.
6:30 a.m.Anna paused, waiting for another strike. “Did you fix the grandfather clock?”
“Ja,” Norbie said, smiling.
A loud chime sounded.
Norbie sighed. “Confounded pendulum disc.”
“We need to leave.” Anna stood and patted Nia. “Ready?”
Nia stood. She raised her lame front paw, giving her the appearance of a hunting dog.
“Don’t you want to give her something to eat?” Norbie asked.
“I’ll feed her at school.”
Norbie pointed. “I packed you a lunch.”
“Danke.” She retrieved a paper sack from the counter. As she turned, Norbie folded his arms and peered out the kitchen window. His plate was empty of bread, and Nia was licking her snout. “I know what you did.”
Norbie patted his belly “She needs it more than I do.”
Anna fought back a smile and kissed him on the cheek. She helped Nia down the steps and waited outside until Emmi and a trainer, who was driving a horse-drawn wagon, picked them up. They arrived at the guide dog school at 7:00 a.m., precisely as Fleck required.
In the barn, Nia hobbled from stall to stall, greeting the other dogs. Tails wagged. Sniffing noses poked through the gaps in the stalls. As Anna was dishing turnip feed into tins, Emmi scurried to her and said, “Fleck’s coming.”
Anxiousness flooded Anna’s stomach. She dropped the scoop into the bin.
“Where is she?” Fleck asked, entering the barn.
Anna retrieved Nia, resting near a pen with two shepherds.
Fleck frowned. “She’s limping.”
She’s walking. “Nia is doing much better. She’s gained weight and—”
“She can’t train if she’s lame.” Fleck grabbed a leash from a hook and attached it to Nia’s collar. He examined each of her paws, and then led her around the barn.
Nia, unable to place weight on her front paw, hobbled over the ground on three legs.
Fleck tossed the leash to Anna. “We don’t have the luxury of feeding dogs that cannot work.”
I will not let you euthanize her.Anna squeezed the leash, attempting to bury her fear. “She only needs time to recover.”
“We do not have time, Fräulein Zeller,” he said firmly.
“Herr Fleck,” Emmi said, stepping to Anna’s side. “It sometimes takes months for a soldier’s trench-damaged feet to heal. I have no reason to believe that the recovery time would be shorter for dogs.”
Fleck smoothed his mustache with his fingers.
“Battle-blinded soldiers are flooding hospitals,” Anna said, mustering her confidence. “There will not be enough dogs for them. In the months and years ahead, you might need every dog in Germany.”
Fleck retrieved a metal case from his pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it.
“Two weeks ago, Nia was unable to walk,” Anna said. “She’s made tremendous strides with her health. I’ll have her ready to train by the next class.”
Fleck took a drag and exhaled smoke through his nose. “Pair her with another dog and place her in a stall.”
