Authors Notes:
Thank you so much to everyone that has reviewed and favorited and followed me. I am really enjoying writing this! and very glad that people are reading and enjoying it as well!
Adopting a retire military working dog is a real thing, if you are interested, the organization I use in the fic, is real .org
August 9, 2014
"Digg" Oliver's voice broke through the beeping of the hospital equipment.
"Hey man", the sound of his best friend answering him was incredible. Last Oliver knew or saw was Digg getting thrown across the street as an IED exploded.
"Looking good my man" Oliver answered. Taking in the white sheet covering his friends decimated legs.
"Hard not to" Digg answered. A smile graced his face and Oliver relaxed a bit. He was hard pressed to not be scared to see his best friend again. It had been nearly 2 months and there had been no contact between them. Oliver had though him dead, along with a good part of his squadron.
"I thought you were dead" Oliver's voice broke; he inhaled deeply, trying to rein in the emotion that tried to fight its way to the surface.
"Takes more than that to get me down." His friend struggled to sit upright in his hospital bed. Oliver moved quickly to help, but Dig threw out his arm in protest. "I got it" was all he said and Oliver backed off, watching his friend struggle to sit up was torture, but it was better than the alternative. "What are you doing here?" Dig finally asked, once he was settled in a sitting position.
"My mom finally told me you were here, guess she was trying to protect me or something. I am sorry I wasn't here sooner, had a bit of recovering to do myself. And I did try to call, but they would let any calls though, unless it as family. " He ran his hand across the back of his neck in frustration.
"You should be home, with you sister, your mom, Laurel." Dig answered back.
"Laurel moved on man, with my friend Tommy."
"Damn, sorry man, that sucks."
"It's ok, really. She deserved better that some broken down war freak that can't sleep through the night and gets angry for no reason. Tommy is a good guy, better for her than I will ever be." Oliver took a deep breath and continued on, "so how are you?"
Digg let out a laugh "Fine dude, just fine, gonna lose my left leg, but the technology now man, going to have a better one than before."
"I am so sorry Dig. I wish I could have done more. It's my fault. I didn't trust Sara, I should have. It's my fault you are here."
"Oliver, man, listen. It's not your fault, it's not Sara's fault. It's really no ones fault. It just is. I'm cool with it. Really. The Docs tried to save it, but they can't. We all did our best. That's all we could do." Oliver listened to his friend. Tried to believe what he said, but in the end, he knew it was his fault, he fucked up. His partner gave them the warning, but he did not trust her, did not believe her, and now his friend was going to lose his leg and his partner was dead.
The room was quiet, the two men lost in their own thoughts and a world away.
"So who has Sara now?" Diggs words broke through Oliver's haze and he shot a look to his friend.
"What?" he was genuinely confused
"Sara? Who has her while you are here?"
"Sara's dead Digg. I saw her get thrown by that IED." Oliver felt like his world was crashing around him.
"No man, she made it. She was with me when they found us. I know you were knocked out, but she was with me. They brought her with us. The Docs, they worked on her, she made it."
Oliver felt the blood rush to his head, the sound, like waves crashing on the shoreline, his world closed in on him in that moment and he knew he needed more information, but could not process what was being said. His partner survived? Where was she? Why had he not been called? Was she already back in country?
"So I am guessing you had no idea she made it?" Digg's words finally broke through his haze.
"No. I saw her get thrown; I saw her still on the side of the road. I saw her dead Digg!" His voice got louder with each word and he was not surprised when a nurse poked her head into the room.
"I think it's time Mr. Diggle got his rest. You can come back and visit tomorrow." The woman said, giving Oliver a death stare.
He was on edge. The last month had thrown everything he thought he knew into a loop. He could not understand why his mother had not told him that his friend and partner had survived. He could not process the memories of seeing them "dead" on that dirty road.
"Are you sure? Are you positive she made I out of country?" He asked his friend.
"Last I saw her, she gave me a lick and tail wag and grabbed my pocket like I had a toy hidden. She made it man. I am sure." Oliver allowed the words of truth to wash over him, and for the first time since he had woken up he felt the stirrings of hope.
"See you tomorrow Digg." Oliver stood up and moved out of his friends' room, but his mind was racing. He was living in a world where not only his best friend had survived but his partner as well. He would find her. He would bring her home.
August 9, 2014
The call came 2 weeks later. In that time Felicity had continued to look at other dogs for adoption, but none had captured her heart like Sara, so she never pursued them. She just waited. She had given the process 2 months, so far it had been 6 weeks, but after that she would start being serious again about looking for another dog.
She was surprised when she got home from work and found a message on her home voice mail. Most of her calls are routed to her cellphone. And she rarely gave her home phone number out to anybody.
"Miss Smoak, my name is Nyssa; I am in charge of finalizing adoptions for the Warrior Dog Foundation. I spoke with Sonja, and she was very impressed with your determination and willingness to learn, due to her endorsement, you have been approved to adopt Sara, pending a home visit. Please call me back within 48 hours so that we can finalize the process and I can answer any questions you may have."
She played the voice mail over and over and still could not believe that she had been approved. But wait, what? A home visit? She had no experience, she had never owned a dog, she was clueless, heck, and 6 weeks ago she had to Google, malinois, the breed Sara was. Of course since then she had researched the heck out of Malinois. She knew they were not your average pet, that they could be very difficult and dominant. A common theme to the Malinois was a breed that is easily excited, quick to challenge an owner, not overly affectionate, always ready to work, never a couch potato. But she felt ready. Her heart pounded out of her chest as she returned the call.
"Hello, Nyssa? This is Felicity Smoak; I am returning your call about Sara."
"Yes, Miss Smoak, thank you for calling me back. Sara has been a bit difficult to place. And even though you are not experienced with working dogs, you have the most appropriate home for her."
"Why has she not been easy to place? She seems perfect, at least based on her description?" Felicity was curious as to why others would pass up this wonderful dog.
"Well, Sara does not get along with cats or small dogs; she can be stubborn and has lots of energy. We tried to place her with a former handler, but none are in a position to take her. I need to be honest and let you know that she is showing signs of post-traumatic stress." The line went silent and Felicity was waiting to hear more but it never came.
"Can you explain what that means please?" she finally asked.
"Well, she lashes out during stressful encounters. Thunderstorms for example, she gets panicked and has growled at some staff. Also, loud areas, lots of screaming, like with kids, she gets very nervous and is quick to either do, what we call "shut down" or get overly protective. We thought she may not be placeable, due to that aggression, but we wanted to talk with you about it first and see what you are willing to deal with."
Felicity was silent as she processed this new information. Could she really handle a working dog with aggression issues? Her logical side said "no frakkin way", but her sentimental side told her this dog saved soldiers, this dog lived through hell, this dog deserved a home, damnit, deserved to have some fight FOR HER. And her momma never raised a quitter.
"She can also be possessive of her food and toys, which, we don't think, is related to her many deployments, but it's an issue. You are, for lack of a better word, an unexperienced handler, and these issues are pretty big. So I understand if you want to wait for another dog. In fact, we have lovely lab that's looking for a home"
"No, no, no. Its Sara, I want Sara. I have a great trainer; I can help her, let me help her." Felicity pleaded. "She deserves someone to help her, right? I mean, she did all that in a war zone, of course she is going to be messed up, and of course she is going to be shell shocked. I can do it, Nyssa. She deserves it. Please."
"Of course, Miss Smoak. I just have to do my due diligence and let you know that she does not come without issues. I will send you some links and some contacts of good trainers in your area that can help you with her retraining." The voice on the other end of the line was caring and soft and Felicity automatically calmed down. "We do need to set up a home visit. Just to make sure that you are who you say you are. And it gives us a chance to answer any more questions and help you prepare."
"Thank you, for everything, I promise that she will be my best friend. I will make this work." Felicity said into the phone. "You give me a day and time and I will be here for the visit."
"That's all we can ask. But if for any reason you can't handle her, she comes back to us." Nyssa said, very clearly letting Felicity know that no matter what, Sara had a soft place to fall. "We have a volunteer in your area that can come by this Saturday around 1 pm. Would that work for your schedule?"
"I will make it work." Felicity said with determination in her voice. Felicity looked around her townhome, was it good enough? Was it clean enough? Dog friendly? But she also knew that come hell or high water, Sara would be with her, for the rest of her life. There was no going back.
"So once I pass the home visit, where and when do I get her?" was the only question she had left. She gathered information as she simultaneously researched "shutting down" and "pot traumatic aggression" in dogs and how to handle it.