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"It's okay, buddy," I murmured as I reached out to stroke his neck. His skin twitched beneath my touch, but he didn't move away. "How about we take this someplace quieter?" I asked. Instead of trying to lead Jerry to the barn, I approached one of the mini donkeys named Piglet. "Okay, Piggy, I'm going to need you to do your thing." The little donkey nuzzled my stomach and then began searching my pockets. As soon as I turned to walk toward the barn, Piglet followed. And right behind Piglet was Jerry.

It took only a minute to reach the barn and once inside, I confined Piglet and Jerry to a stall. I gave each animal one of the horse treats I kept in my pocket and then left the stall so I could turn the overhead lights on. The second I opened the stall door, I nearly tripped over Jett. He frowned when my knee bumped his wheelchair.

"I asked you to stay put," I said.

Jett ignored my comment and looked past me at Jerry and Piglet. "Is it okay?" he asked.

"It?"

Jett’s jaw hardened and I could tell he was working overtime to hold back whatever retort was on the tip of his tongue.

"He is fine," I said.

"What happened to him?"

Since Piglet was busy chowing down on some hay in the stall, I made my way down the short aisle and hit the light switch. I knew I didn't have to worry about Jerry leaving the stall because he wasn't about to leave Piglet’s side while in his anxious state.

"He had an abscess in his hoof," I said as I returned to the stall after grabbing my medical bag from near the entrance where I'd left it.

Jett was still sitting in front of the doorway of the stall, seemingly unconcerned that the animals could potentially run over him if they tried to leave. I moved past him and then began humming softly as I approached Jerry. The zebra was still quite antsy, but he didn't try to get away from me. I took my time running my hand over the length of his body as I made my way toward his back legs. I was very aware of Jett's eyes on me, but I didn't allow it to affect my work. I'd always been proud of my ability to completely focus on my patients no matter what was happening around me. Pity that I couldn't be as put together when it was just me.

I took my time examining Jerry's hoof. My arm still hurt, but it didn't impede my ability to confirm that Jerry's abscess was much improved. I eased the zebra’s foot back down onto the ground and gave him a gentle pat on the rear.

"He's okay?" Jett asked. While I hadn't forgotten about his presence, I was surprised that the man was interacting with me.

"Yeah, he's good," I said.

"What happened to him?"

"I told you, he had an abscess—"

Jett shook his head and said, "No, I mean what landed him in this place? Animals, they don't just end up here for no reason, right?"

"Not usually, no. Especially not the undomesticated ones. Jerry was part of a small traveling circus. His so-called trainer believed in beating his charges into submission. One day Jerry had had enough and when the whip came down on him, it was for the last time. He kicked the trainer, breaking his arm in the process. Then he took off and ended up hurting some people who couldn't get out of his way in time. The city wanted to euthanize him but agreed to place him with Dallas instead. Jerry's been here at the center from almost the beginning. He’s doing well but can occasionally get triggered."

As I spoke, I found myself running my hand over the faint scars on Jerry's hip from where the whip had cut particularly deep.

When I turned my attention back to Jett, I saw that his eyes remained focused on Jerry. I wanted to ask him what he was thinking about but managed to resist the urge. Instead, I opened the door at the back of the stall that would allow both animals to return to the paddock whenever they were ready and then left the little space. This time, Jett moved his wheelchair out of the way as I stepped past. I closed the stall door and busied myself with putting my instruments back in order in my bag. While I wasn't the most organized person in the world when it came to my personal life, I was always careful to make sure my bag had everything in its place so that I'd be ready to go if an emergency came in.

"How's your arm?" Jett suddenly asked. His voice as well as the question caught me off guard. I was crouched over my bag so when I glanced over my shoulder at Jett, he was actually a little bit above me. At some point, he’d moved his chair closer. As it was, I would only have to reach my hand out a few inches and I'd be able to touch his leg. I made the mistake of letting my eyes linger on what remained of his lower limbs. Within seconds, Jett snapped, "Forget it" and reached for the wheels so that he could roll away from me. I ended up grabbing the chair so that he couldn't escape.

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