He hesitated, biting his lower lip.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’ll walk close behind you.”
“All right.” He patted the dog, and then shuffled forward.
The dog followed, staying close to his side.
They meandered through the garden. At first, Horst moved cautiously, as if he feared veering from the path and tripping over bushes. Initially, Anna placed her hand on his shoulder to guide him on turns. But when she observed the dog nudging Horst’s leg to keep him from straying off the path, she gradually weaned away her assistance. Minutes later, she settled on the bench, while Horst and the dog explored the garden.
The door to the hospital opened, and Dr. Stalling entered the garden. His eyes widened.
Anna shot up from her seat. “I’m sorry—”
Stalling raised a finger to his lips.
She tilted her head.
He stared, observing the manner in which his dog was helping Horst. “How long have they been walking together?” he said, his voice low.
Anna approached him. “Several minutes.”
“How far?”
“A couple circles around the garden.” She swallowed. “I’m sorry. It was neglectful of me not to accompany them.”
“Not at all, Fräulein Zeller.”
The dog paused near a tree and licked Horst’s hand.
Horst laughed and rubbed the dog’s head.
Anna, curiosity swelling within her, looked at Stalling. “How did you teach your dog to guide people?”
“I didn’t,” Stalling said.
Anna’s eyes widened. “She’s incredibly intelligent.”
He nodded.
An image of sightless soldiers, sitting alone on hospital benches, filled her head. A wave a sadness washed over her. “I wish all blinded veterans could have a dog like yours.”
“Me too.” Stalling raised his chin and beamed, as if an idea bloomed in his brain. “Maybe we can provide each of them a companion.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“We already train shepherds to be sentries, scouts, messengers, and ambulance dogs,” he said. “I see no reason why we cannot train dogs in great numbers to guide blinded veterans.”
Anna’s mind raced. “It would enable ex-soldiers to return home, rather than be confined to a hospital. And they’d be given a chance of regaining an independent life.”
“Precisely.” Stalling grinned. “What do you think about a guide dog school in Oldenburg?”
“It’s the most magnificent thing I could imagine, sir.”
“I’m glad you think so.” Stalling glanced to his dog guiding Horst around a bend in the garden path. “Advanced weaponry is producing some of the most horrific injuries ever seen, and an enormous number of battle-blinded men are returning from the front. We cannot allow these men—who sacrificed their sight in defense of our country—to be beggars, social outcasts, or objects of charity. I want to give them a chance of rebuilding their lives, and I believe that guide dogs can serve as mobility aids for them. They’ll no longer be solely reliant upon family and friends to care for them. They’ll gain their independence and ability to work. Most importantly, a guide dog can provide veterans with emotional support and help restore their confidence.”
“It’s quite an admirable endeavor, sir,” Anna said.
“Indeed.” Stalling looked at Anna. “It will be a challenge to gain financial and government support, but I’ll find a way to open a guide dog school. We’ll begin with small classes to refine our instruction techniques, but soon we’ll expand to train hundreds of shepherds and veterans. The school will grow with locations across Germany. And, someday, the practices we develop will benefit thousands of blind people around the world.”
