“There,” Anna said. She clasped Nia’s harness and approached the men. “Hallo. Maximilian Benesch?”
“Ja.” Max released the soldier’s arm, and then placed the tip of his walking stick on the ground. “Please, call me Max.”
“I’m Anna.” She paused, debating whether she should attempt to shake his hand and decided against it when he clasped his walking stick with both hands, like a sheepman unwilling to part with his crook. Unlike many soldiers who sported mustaches or beards, Max was clean-shaven, save a bit of stubble on his chin and slightly uneven sideburns. He was tall and lean with pronounced cheekbones. Dark brown hair, a bit long for a soldier, hung from under his cap.
“Here’s your luggage.” The soldier, appearing as if he was running late for an engagement, placed a leather suitcase at Max’s feet. “Good luck to you.”
“Danke.” Max stared ahead.
The soldier tipped his cap to Anna and left.
Nia sniffed Max’s leg and wagged her tail.
He shifted his weight.
“This is Nia, a soon-to-be guide dog,” she said. “Would you like to pet her?”
He hesitated, cupping the top of his stick with his hands.
Maybe he’s tired from the trip.“You’ll be working with guide dogs for the next two months. I think it is best that we properly get acquainted.” She gently clasped his hand and shook it, noticing his firm but gentle grip. “I’m Anna Zeller, your host while you train in Oldenburg.”
The lines in his face softened. “It’s nice to meet you, Anna.”
She placed his palm on the dog’s head. “This is Nia.”
Max stroked the dog’s ears and smiled. “Hallo, Nia.”
Nia looked up and panted, her tongue hanging from her mouth.
“Will I be working with her?” Max asked.
“Nein,” Anna said, attempting to hide her disappointment. “Nia’s not quite ready for training. Rolf Fleck, the supervisor, will decide which shepherd will be assigned to you.” She looked at him. “It’s a twenty-minute walk to my home. Would you like to hold my arm, or would you like to clasp the handle to Nia’s harness?”
Max picked up his suitcase and tapped the stick to the pavement. “I’m accustomed to using this.”
He’ll soon be walking with a guide dog; no need for me to put him to work tonight, she thought.
Anna, providing verbal directions, guided Max through the train station. Outside, they traversed the sidewalks, illuminated by a dull, flickering glow of gas streetlamps. Frigid air turned their breath into mist. She attempted to initiate conversation, but Max—focused on navigating the craggy cobblestone—provided cursory responses to her questions. They spoke little, other than for guidance on the route, until they neared Anna’s street.
“What’s wrong with Nia?” Max asked.
Anna squeezed the harness handle. “She’s recovering.”
“It sounds like she’s limping,” he said, slowing his pace.
Anna glanced to Nia, favoring her right front leg as she padded over the sidewalk. “Her paws were injured while serving as an ambulance dog at the front.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Trenches?”
“Ja,” Anna said. “How did you know?”
“Even with leather boots and frequent changes of socks, the mud wreaked havoc on men’s feet. I assume the trenches were even worse for dogs.”
Anna slowed her pace and patted Nia’s back. “Her front paw becomes tender after prolonged walks. However, she’s getting better.”But not fast enough for Fleck.
He stopped and inhaled, as if he were catching his breath. “It’s okay, Nia. I sometimes get fatigued, too.”
Nia glanced to him and limped ahead.
