by Dale Mayer
“And is that a good place for Shambhala?” Badger asked curiously. “Can her mother handle a dog like that?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest,” he said. “She doesn’t have a whole lot of money, and she’s renting.”
“Okay,” Badger said slowly. “No offense intended here, but is she the kind who would look after the dog?”
“I believe she is the kind, Badger,” Weston said slowly. “But it’s a huge commitment. Shambhala’s only four, so there’s easily five to ten years left in her life, or more.”
“True enough,” Badger said. After a moment of silence he added, “Give me some time to think about our options here.”
“On any of the other cases, did you have to find a foster home?”
“No,” Badger said in surprise. “This is the first one we’ve come up against.”
Weston frowned. It made him feel like he had failed at his job somehow. “What happened to the dogs?”
“Depending on the circumstances, a lot of the guys kept them,” Badger said honestly. “And in Pete Lowery’s case, well, his dog had been taken from his care because he had to go into a VA home and couldn’t have the dog with him. So, at that point, the job to reunite Pete and his dog was our primary goal, not to mention Pete was perfectly capable of living at home by then, but he had a greedy brother involved.”
“The little bastard,” Weston said in an amiable voice. “We keep seeing the dark side of humanity at every corner, don’t we?”
“Yes, we do,” Badger said. “But good men are out there, period. Anyway, give me some time to think about this. And, if you have more updates on the two brothers, let me know.”
After he rang off, Weston remained outside on the patio, while Shambhala lay in the yard. She seemed perfectly content. But then, she’d been perfectly content to be at the fireplace back at the cabin today too. He wondered if the paperwork for her was in Ginger’s name or Grant’s because ownership of the dog might become an issue. In that case, he may not even be able to take Shambhala to another foster home for care. He sent Badger a text, asking that question. Badger came back saying the dog had been signed over to Ginger.
Interesting. Because that wasn’t the same thing as Grant saying he was willing and capable of looking after the dog. So the push for the dog had been Ginger’s, and maybe that was why Shambhala was doing better here because of the presence of the two females. Maybe Shambhala’s history so far hadn’t left her too much faith in men. She’d had good training but had lost her trainer. That was a circumstance Weston didn’t know the details of. But, just like in any case, history was important.
He sent another text to Badger, asking about the fate of Shambhala’s trainer. He replied a few minutes later.
Trainers actually. Like so many of the K9, they are dedicated to just one man at a time. When a trainer leaves the military service, or goes into a different department, he often has to relinquish the dog, who is an asset of the US government. In this case Shambhala was relinquished to another man and then went through a series of different trainers as they taught her new techniques that they could then impart to other dogs. That’s when she ended up in a bombing incident, and the decision was made to retire her.
Her injuries don’t appear to bother her too much, Weston responded.
Good. She’s done her duty by all of us, and what she needs now is a few good years where she can just relax and have a good life.
Weston left it at that.
He walked across the grass toward her. Shambhala just watched him, her gaze steady. But there was no fear, just observation. He crouched in front of her. Reaching out, he stroked and scratched the dog. Her missing leg appeared to be inconsequential to her. He noted she had jumped in and out of the truck without any issues, though it might become a bigger problem as she got older.
Shambhala rolled over on her back and gave him her belly. He gently stroked her and gave her a really good belly rub. Thankfully the dried blood was gone. He could see a small scab over a scratch, but it appeared to be a minor injury. Same thing when he checked out her haunch. That was good. He just wanted to impart friendliness, cooperation and, of course, build a bond with her.
At that last bit his mind stuttered to a stop, surprised he wanted to bond with this dog. Was it fair to build a bond and then have her go to somebody else? How happy had she been with Ginger? Shambhala had appeared to have been very relaxed, if not bonded to Ginger, as Shambhala had gone straight to the carpet in front of the cabin’s fireplace, as if that was her go-to comfort zone. But that didn’t mean she had the same comfort with her owners as she’d had with her trainers.
A lot of dogs just detached after a while. They said that a dog would always find somebody new to bond with, but, after so many different people, dogs did tend to get a little more detached, and it would take longer to bond each time.
Just then the patio doors opened behind him. Daniela and Sari stepped out, Sari holding her mom’s hand as she made her way awkwardly down the steps. But no doubt about where she was headed. She had her free arm forward, reaching for Shambhala.
“Doggy, doggy.”
Daniela laughed. “We’re getting there.”
He watched as Shambhala lifted her head and wagged her tail as she saw the two women coming toward her. Whereas Weston himself hadn’t been given a tail wag, not the happy kind here. Instinctively he knew it was logical, but he had to admit to feeling let down. He’d always had a good rapport with animals. He was up against some history here, and he didn’t know how to deal with it.
As Sari got closer, she tumbled and fell to her knees. Instinctively Weston jumped forward to make sure the dog wouldn’t hurt her, but instead Shambhala reached up and licked Sari’s face. Sari laughed, then fell forward on top of Shambhala’s belly. Daniela tried to pull her back but lost her grip on the little fingers. She turned to look back at him and frowned. “Do you think this is safe?”
He walked over to Shambhala, who was even now lying there blissfully happy as Sari reached up to pet her, which ended up being more like a smack on the face.
“I can’t honestly say,” he said. “But, if Shambhala is bonding with anybody, I’d say it’s with Sari.”
At that moment, Shambhala rolled over slightly, knocking Sari to the grass, and she stared up at him with surprise and then laughed. Shambhala licked her face again. Then the two of them just curled up, intertwined. Shambhala sat in between Sari’s legs, her chubby little arm wrapped around the dog’s neck, their heads together.
He caught the sound of Daniela’s breath quickly sucked back. He pulled out his phone and started taking pictures.
Chapter 9
“Are you taking pictures because it’s cute,” Daniela said in a faint voice, “or because this is dangerous?”
“I’ve been around pets all my life,” he said. “Nothing in Shambhala’s body language says she’s dangerous.”
“I know,” she said, “but how quickly will Shambhala switch from this to a guard dog?”
He looked at her and smiled. “Well, if she switches to a guard dog, you’d be blessed,” he said, “because she would protect Sari with her life.”
She looked at him, surprised, then looked down at Sari and Shambhala. “Well, good. It’s perfect timing.”
“What’s that?”
She let out her breath and slowly tried to get calm. “Because Angel contacted me today. Via email. And if there’s one thing I don’t trust, it’s that woman.” She hadn’t meant to say it that way, and, after his look, she shrugged and nodded. “I was going to tell you earlier, but I forgot, what with all the things you had on your mind.”
“We did have a lot of other stuff to talk about.” He glanced again at Sari and frowned. “Do you have legal documents giving you custody of Sari?”
“I do,” she said, “but you also know that, in some cases, particularly something like this, one where it didn’t go through a government agency, the judges do tend to favor the birth parents.”
> “Ah,” he said, “so you really are worried Angel is after Sari now?”
“You would be too if you saw the email she sent.” She pulled out her phone, found Angel’s email and handed it to him.
“Do you really think, if you say no, she’ll come and steal her away?”
“I think it’s a strong possibility. I don’t know what to say, other than that, because it’s obviously my … my biggest fear.”
He nodded. “I can see that.” He crossed his arms, tapping his finger on his forearm.
“What do you think?”
“I’m thinking Shambhala would quite likely protect Sari, if that were the case. But I’m not sure you’re prepared to handle the cost and the commitment required to deal with a dog like this.”
“It sounds like a huge responsibility,” she said. “And that would be very difficult for me. Money aside, the dog will need training, I presume.”
He looked at her, and the corner of his mouth tilted upward. “Not quite. You’d be the one who needs training.”
She looked at him, startled for a moment, then glanced back at the dog lying there, completely happy as Sari lay on top of her, happily chattering away, telling her some story. Sari’s head was against Shambhala’s ear, which twitched with every breath.
“Shambhala looks so gentle right now,” Daniela murmured. “It’s hard to believe she’d be anything other than this.”
“I do know from her training,” Weston said, “that she can be a whole lot more than this experience, but she is retired. I don’t know what her last six weeks were like. I don’t even know what her last six months were like. But the training she would have gone through originally would have been rigorous, intensive and ongoing.”
“I need to learn more than basic commands,” she said, “but right now she looks like nothing but a teddy bear.”
Privately he had to agree. He stepped back to see if Shambhala would react differently. But she appeared to be happy. He took several more steps back.
Daniela looked at him sharply. “Are you trying to do that?”
He nodded. “Take several steps back too, please.” She hesitated. He looked at her with a smile. “I would never endanger Sari.”
She took several more steps back, so they were both about eight feet away from the dog. Shambhala didn’t even open her eyes.
“So, is this a good thing or a bad thing?” Daniela asked with a laugh, as she joined Weston farther away from the dog.
“It looks like her focus is on Sari,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what would happen if somebody came up and disturbed them.”
“And I don’t want to find out.”
He smiled. “How long do you want to leave Sari out here?”
“I hate to take her away,” she admitted. “She doesn’t have a lot of playmates around here. Plus I think she just adopted Shambhala.”
“That may be,” he said, “but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s the right decision to keep the dog. If we even were to get that cleared.”
Daniela walked toward her daughter. “Come on, Sari. Do you want to play in the sandbox?”
Sari turned to look at her and asked, “Doggy come?”
Daniela hesitated.
Weston asked, “Where’s the sandbox?”
“At the park around the corner. It’s got a pretty decent-size sandbox.”
“Why don’t we all go,” he said. “It will give me a chance to see what Shambhala’s training is like.”
“That’s a good idea.” Daniela smiled down at Sari. “Yes. We’ll take Shambhala to the park.”
Sari squeezed Shambhala and scrambled to her feet, toddling unsteadily toward her mother.
“Doggy, come,” she ordered in a strict tone, directed at the dog. It was so funny to see her voice change as she tried to be an adult, as she tried to mimic Weston’s command.
Weston walked closer to Sari, crouched and said, “When you want the doggy to do something, you look at her in her good eye, reach out with your arm and make this motion, and then you give her the order to come.”
Sari stared at him with her huge eyes, looked back at Shambhala and moved her hand the way she was supposed to and said, “Doggy, come.”
Shambhala looked at Weston and looked at the little girl. Then, with her tongue lolling to the side, she hopped to her feet and went over to Sari. As she arrived, she gave Sari another lick on the face.
Sari laughed, hanging on to the dog for support, as they walked back toward the stairs. Daniela watched closely, completely flabbergasted that the dog would follow the little girl’s commands, but Shambhala seemed to realize she was needed for steadiness. As they went up the steps, she took them at the exact same pace as Sari.
“She’s so good with Sari,” she said in wonder.
“I see that. So let’s take this chance to put Shambhala through her paces, see what else she might know.” With the leash once again attached to her collar, Shambhala hesitated at the door. But when she saw everybody else was getting boots on and walking out the door along with her, she seemed to be totally okay.
“Did you see that? I’m not sure she would be happy to leave without you,” he murmured.
“I don’t think it’s without me,” Daniela said. “It’s without Sari.”
“True enough.”
As they wandered down the lane toward the park, Sari was busy stomping in recent puddles and then picking up rocks, trying to hand them to Shambhala, who would sniff them and keep walking. Weston kept an eye on Shambhala, who appeared to be keeping an eye on Sari. “For whatever reason,” he said, “she’s in protective mode over Sari.”
“I won’t argue against it,” Daniela said. “I just don’t know how to turn it on and off.”
“There may be no Off button in this case because I don’t think she’s doing this by command. I think she’s doing this because she wants to.”
“Meaning that she cares about Sari?”
“She definitely cares about Sari. A strong bond exists already between them.”
At that, Daniela shook her head. “I don’t know that I’m ready for the commitment to keep a dog, any dog really,” she said. “And I can’t even imagine trying to feed her.”
“Not a discussion for today, that’s for sure.”
“Well, if it doesn’t fit in today,” she challenged, “when does it? Because, as far as I know, you’re leaving tomorrow.” She watched him carefully as he hesitated, then looked at her and smiled.
“How would you feel about a houseguest for a week or two?”
Weston watched a pretty smile bloom across her face. Then he gave a nod. “Only if you’re okay with it. I do want to sort out the Grant, Gregory and Ginger thing, and I do need to make sure Shambhala has a foster home, stays with me or stays with you.”
She hesitated at that and looked down.
He grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently. “No pressure, Daniela. Really.”
She gave a light laugh. “So good to hear that, because you know something, Weston? As much as I’m okay with keeping Shambhala, I’m not flush with money.”
“I get that. It sounds like we need to deal with Angel too.”
“Yes, we do,” she said sadly.
“Do you think she just wants to have regular visits with Sari?”
“I don’t know. Am I a bad person for not even wanting her to have that? She would be a horrible influence with her lifestyle.”
“I think the hardest thing for a child is a parent who flips in and out on a whim,” he said. “Are you looking at me for the same problem?”
She just shrugged, not saying anything. But it was affirmation enough that it was already a problem.
“When did you last see Angel?”
She looked at him in surprise. “Not since she handed Sari over.”
He stared at her. “Seriously?”
“Yes,” she said. “That’s why I don’t understand why she wants anything to do with her now. Sari won’t know her.”
“What changed in Angel’s life that she suddenly cares?” he murmured.
“I don’t know. And because of my number one fear, I don’t want her anywhere close to me or Sari.”
“Did you have to pay a certain amount of money to get Sari?”
“We covered all the legal costs,” she said, “but we didn’t give her a lump sum. That would feel like paying for or buying my daughter. Angel wanted money for a flight to Vegas, and we paid that. We were happy to get rid of her, if I’m being honest.”
“So she just wanted to drop off her daughter and leave?”
“I think so,” she said. “We didn’t really get into the discussion. She made the offer, and I jumped at it. Then we moved on.”
“Now Angel’s wanting something different?” He watched as Daniela slowly nodded.
“The trouble is,” she confessed, “I don’t want to change the conditions. I don’t want this situation to change at all. I just want her to stay away from Sari.”
“Is that because you’re afraid to lose Sari physically, or because you’re afraid Sari will form a bond with her biological mother that may be stronger than her bond with you?” When she sucked in her breath, he knew he’d hit a bull’s-eye. He reached out and squeezed her hand again. “It’s obvious Sari really loves you.”
“I know that,” she said. “I didn’t think I was such a small person that I would be afraid of sharing that love. But I think at the moment that’s an issue for me.”
When they reached the park, Sari headed toward the large sandbox. Shambhala stayed at her side, tugging at her leash to make sure they were keeping up. She would correct her behavior when he gave the motion, but her choice was always to stay close to Sari.
He gave her enough lead to see how she would react.
Sari got ahead of them, and Shambhala tried to catch up. But she never needed to be in front. She wasn’t trying to be alpha; she was just keeping an eye on the little girl.