Delaney felt a little twinge of excitement that she hadn’t been expecting and didn’t really understand. This had to be about more than missing her childhood buddy, Chunk. This had to be about more than Dad dying. It might be about those things, but it wasn’tonlyabout those things.
“Break.” Pete tapped his thigh and led Wyatt away from the puppy play station, into a wider space, away from the other dogs, out near the woods. Delaney could spy a path into the trees outside the fence, along with a log cabin, nestled into the foliage.
“I rent out cabins,” Sunny explained, following Delaney’s gaze. “People with money get to hang out on my grounds and see all the dogs. Generates a lot of donations.”
“Smart.” Delaney could appreciate a fellow businesswoman. “So what happens to the Breakfast Club?”
“Some might go to Pete.” Sunny nodded in his direction. “He lives a mile that way, through the woods, but we’ve connected operations so now the two of us have over twenty acres to work with. Others will be adopted. Puppies aren’t as difficult to home as the older dogs.” Her gaze rested with Wyatt.
“That’s amazing. I know a few people who would benefit from a rescue dog.” Delaney thought of Vanguard, from her first tour on Leatherneck. He’d kept in touch, after an IED took out his convoy and sent him home with one less leg.
“I’ll set you up with a few of Pete’s business cards before you go.”
“Thanks.”
“You guys up for a walk?” Pete called out.
“Yeah.” Delaney shrugged. “Sure.”
They spent the next fifteen minutes walking the grounds, until they ended up at another large building, nestled in the woods. There was a sign here, same as the one out front of Sunny’s, but just the Canine Warriors portion. “This is my side of the operation,” Pete said. “So Sunny works closely with the local animal shelter, other kill shelters in the surrounding counties and states, and foster homes. Pups are vetted by me to see which, if any, are viable for service dog training. If so, we match them with veterans who have submitted applications for a dog. Personality is important, as well as size, as well as disability.”
“So what kind of personality? I’m guessing Wyatt wouldn’t be suitable.” Delaney smiled at him so that Wyatt would know her comment wasn’t meant as an insult.
“No, he’s too restless. I usually look for an amiable, confident personality in the dog. One that will be obedient and calm, even if the handler is terrified.”
“Makes complete sense.” Delaney eyed Wyatt. “You might just run away, huh, boy?”
“Size matters, too,” Pete continued. “Smaller dogs are better at certain tasks and larger ones for others. Take Tabitha, for example. Trinity was perfect for her because she’s the smallest pit bull that I’ve ever seen. Too big a dog wouldn’t have worked for Tabitha, because we definitely wanted to train Trinity for deep pressure therapy and we couldn’t have a huge dog lying on top of Tabitha’s chest.”
Delaney nodded in agreement. A lot more went into this than she’d thought.
“And then we look at what kind of service the dog will be providing. In Tabitha’s example, she applied for a service dog from me because she needed a psychiatric service dog and the VA doesn’t cover dogs for psychiatric issues like PTSD or MST.”
“Really? I didn’t realize that.”
“They say there’s not enough research to show that service dogs help people with PTSD or other psychological trauma and that there’s risk of dependency—a reliance by the human on the animal to function without learning to do so themselves.” Pete removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair.
“That doesn’t make any sense to me,” Delaney said. “I can see how much Trinity helps Tabitha do things she wouldn’t otherwise be doing.”
“I tend to agree with you,” Pete said, glancing down at Wyatt, who tilted his nose in the air and danced around, like he was eager to show Delaney everything he’d learned in the weeks since she’d last seen him. “Which is why I do provide service dogs for that sort of trauma.”
“This is an amazing thing that you do.”
“It’s not a one-man operation.” Pete waved away her compliment, hat in hand, before he plopped it back on his head. “There are a lot of moving parts, starting with Sunny and her crew and then on to me and mine. I have a slew of volunteers who come in, learn how to train the dogs, then work with them and the veterans who apply. It can take months to years to train a dog and costs thousands of dollars, so donations are essential. That’s why your gym is having a fundraiser here next weekend. You’ve probably seen the signs.”
“I have,” Delaney said. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Cool. Come on and I’ll show you what we’ve been learning.”
Delaney spent the next two hours learning all the commands she’d heard Pete use with Wyatt, as well as a few others. He showed her how to use tiny treats as a reward system to reinforce the commands. Wyatt would now do most of the commands without treats, but Pete still gave him some at times.
“It’s good for him,” Pete emphasized. “He doesn’t get enough treats to get fat. It’s just a reward that snaps his brain out of the rut he’s gotten stuck in of going back and forth and all around, searching for a place to be. The real thing he needs to control is inside—” Pete rubbed his chest “—not his outside.” He raised his arms and gestured around the grounds. “The training just reminds him that he doesn’t need to worry so much. That someone is here to help him. To care about him, guide him and protect him. Just as rules for our children help keep them safe, so does the training for Wyatt.” Pete handed her a few treats. “Here. Try for yourself.”
Delaney tried out the commands and treats, then tried out the commands without treats. Wyatt complied with equal eagerness. By the time she felt confident in taking Wyatt back to the shop the setting sun’s rays shone down over the grounds in hazy, multicolored beams that looked like they came directly from heaven,
“If you can, maybe keep him inside, with the bay door closed, for a few days.” Pete was frank as he slipped a leash on Wyatt and led him toward the front of the house, where Delaney had parked. “Just long enough to get him accustomed to his new surroundings. To sort of let him know that’s where you’re going to be. That he’s safe there. Without giving him the chance to run back to Sunny’s place.”
“I can do that. It’s getting too hot to leave the shop open, anyway.”