I swing my legs off the bed and slide them into my slippers. I don’t even remember putting them next to the bed. I think I’m developing new habits, and it makes me smile.
“Come here, boy. Come on, Jason, buddy. Let me get a cuddle before you go on duty,” Hattie cajoles Jason, but he doesn’t move. She’s really respectful of the no-touching-the-service-dog-when-he’s-working rule.
There’s a whine that Jason always gives off when someone cuddles him. It’s like he’s tolerating it for my sake. He never does it when I cuddle him but it’s like he tolerates it from everyone else.
“Fine, you old grump. I thought guide dogs were supposed to be friendly.”
“He is friendly. He just doesn’t like to be treated like a dog.”
“But he is a dog. A dog that looks scarily like a wolf, but maybe that’s his problem. He’s having an identity crisis.”
A low growl comes from Jason. But I’ve learned already his growl is worse than his bite, and we both laugh.
“See? It’s true. I struck a nerve.”
“I think he’s disagreeing with you, to be honest.”
“We can argue about that on the way to Meemaw’s,” Hattie decides.
We’re picking Meemaw up on the way to the sanctuary, since she and Hattie want to see how I’m getting on there. Even though I’m nervous about getting back on the horse, I’m excited that they’re coming. I love that they are so supportive of me.
“Hey, Hattie. Don’t tell Meemaw about the fall.”
I can practically feel her eyebrows raising. “My lips are sealed… By the way, I was miming zipping my lips.”
I laugh. Hattie always tells me which actions she’s using. It’s equally heartwarming and ridiculous.
“Make coffee while I get dressed, will you? The travel mugs?—”
“I know, I know,” she says. “Third cupboard from the door.”
Hattie makes her way to the kitchen while I get dressed. I feel Jason walk out the room. He always does that when I’m getting changed. Even though he’s a dog, I like to think he’s giving me my privacy.
A mix of emotions swirl through me while I brush my teeth. I’m bummed about last night, but ready to tackle today. I’mgoing to get back on the horse, literally and figuratively. I’m also excited about having Meemaw and Hattie there to witness it. Even if Meemaw doesn’t know what happened.
It’s symbolic of a new start. Today is a new day. And there will be times I fall off the horse, but the only person stopping me from getting back on is me.
P.S. Universe. I’m only being figurative. If I could stay on the horse, that would be great.
Chapter 11
Jason
This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t be sweating this much. To be fair, I shouldn’t be standing here about to make a bad decision, yet I am, clutching the collar I usually wear as Dog-Jason like it’s my emotional support collar. Seeing Violet break down like that yesterday… Her pain was all-encompassing, and I’d felt so fucking helpless. So, while she slept, I watched YouTube videos on how I could help her while not taking away her independence. It sparked an idea I couldn’t exactly carry out in wolf form, so here I am, with palms that have turned into a personal hydration system.
My heart is doing this weird double-thump thing, like it’s trying to punch its way out of my ribs. My wolf is pacing, claws scraping the inside of my chest, muttering things likecowardandwhy are we still wearing clothes?
He’s not helpful.
I wipe my hands on my jeans again, but they’re still clammy and traitorous, like they’ve joined forces with my anxiety.
The porch boards creak loudly under my feet. Too loud.
I freeze, holding my breath, like she can somehow see me through the door just because she heard me.
Pride, fear, and anticipation all twist so tight I can’t separate them. I straighten my shirt. Yes, it’s stupid. She can’t see me. And yet…
“Okay,” I whisper. “Just breathe. Just cook. Don’t bark. Don’t sniff. Don’t get attached.”
