Ranger - K.M. Neuhold Page 0,4

inside looks somewhat better kept than the outside would suggest. Not great, mind you, but not unlivable either. I take a seat on the couch he shows me to and pull my clipboard with the questionnaire out of my messenger bag.

“Like I explained on the phone last night, I’m going to start by asking some questions if that’s okay?” Ranger grunts and nods. “Do you have any physical injuries or disabilities? An amputation or a head injury that could result in seizures, anything of that nature?”

“No.” Ranger shakes his head. “Do I not qualify without a physical injury?”

“Oh no, no, that’s not it at all,” I assure him. “Part of what I’m trying to do today is to assess your specific needs so I can pair you with the right dog.”

“The right dog?” he repeats, sounding skeptical.

“Yes. While any dog can be a great companion, some of them specialize in alerting for a seizure or reacting appropriately when one happens. Others are best for aiding with stability as needed if you have a prosthetic, and so on. I’ve trained five dogs personally for different demands of care and support and have access to more through the organization if needed,” I explain.

“I can see how a dog would help with those things.” He cards his hands through his messy hair. “But I don’t get how it’s going to help with the fucked-up shit going on inside my head.”

“I’m glad you asked. First, it’s psychologically proven that having a nonjudgmental companion like a dog can be extremely comforting. Their presence even causes endorphins to release in our brains when they’re near. But more than that, the dogs I train can detect the initial signs of a PTSD attack. The increased heart rate and breathing, sudden tension, even a spike in blood pressure are all detectable to them.

“When your dog notices you’re about to have an episode, they’ll start by leaning into you, then lick your hand. For many people, the weight of a dog’s body is a great grounding technique. You can run your fingers through their fur and talk to them. All these things can pull you out of it. If this isn’t enough, they can take the next step, getting between you and any other people in the room to keep both you and others safe. They can go as far as herding you away from a situation or environment. During the night, they’re also vigilant, able to wake you safely from a nightmare and then use these same comforting techniques I just described.”

I’ve made this pitch to potential recipients a hundred times, but it never stops being powerful to me when their expression morphs from skeptical to hopeful in just a few sentences.

“They can do all that?” he asks quietly as if he’s afraid to hope too much.

“And more.”

3

Ranger

I stare at Julian for way longer than can be considered polite, but I’m speechless. When Lucky told me about this Pups for Patriots program, I thought I’d be getting a well-behaved dog who would keep me company. A buddy, someone to force me to keep going because he’d be dependent on me. But that would be it. A dog. But what Julian describes takes it to a whole new level. It’s hard for me to believe it could be true, but if it is…

I clear my throat. “And vets are saying this helps them?”

Julian nods enthusiastically. When he smiles, his whole face lights up as if the sun comes through. “I’m happy to provide you with a contact number from a veteran who has benefitted from our program. We’ve helped hundreds of veterans find their perfect dog, and all their lives have been better for it.”

“How do you decide which dog would work for someone?”

“That’s what this intake interview is for. My goal is to get to know you a little and learn about your day-to-day life so I can assess which dog would be the best fit for you. Like I said, I’ve trained five dogs, so those would have first dibs on you, but if I feel none of them match, I have more options from other trainers.”

First dibs on me? As if the dog chooses me instead of the other way around. It’s a strange thought that’s scary and comforting at the same time.

“Can you tell me what a typical day looks like for you?” Julian asks.

I sigh. “I get up at oh-six-hundred. Years of being in the Army have programmed my body for that.”

“What did you