Chapter One-Hundred and Thirty
Clarissa brushed John's hair back from his ear as he curled around Claire in his sleep. She knew that his flashbacks were getting worst, but she'd also heard of a way that could help. She smiled, pulling the blankets higher on the couple's shoulders. "Sleep well." She whispered, turning the light out as she started for the living room for the adult meeting she and Thomas had called after John's last flashback.
Mary yawned, leaning against Paul as Clarissa entered the living room. "Goodness, those kids could not stay up later."
Thomas chuckled, placing an old dog collar on the coffee table. "I think that John's nerves got a little wound up today with his fit. But Clarissa and I thought of something that might help."
Jan picked up the collar, looking at the redheaded parents. "Are you suggesting that we buy John a dog?"
Clarissa nodded, placing a shelter pamphlet on the table beside them. "I think that we could get it trained to be a service animal for him. To help with his PTSD and find one of us for help if he does happen to get another attack."
Dana examined the pamphlet, reading over the dogs that they usually rescued. "He does love dogs… and I think it would help him feel like he was needed more."
Thomas smiled. "So it's decided then. Tomorrow after John gets out of school, Clarissa and I will take him to pick out a pound puppy."
John twisted the collar around his hands, walking through the kennels as the dogs barked at him through the chain-link gates. He paused at one cage, looking into the shockingly blue eyes of a pitch-black pit-bull. He knelt down, letting her get used to him on her level. Smiling, he held his hand out to her, holding it palm up to show that he meant no harm. He could recognize the signs of a fighting dog in her. Her ears were cropped, and she had the unmistakable bite scars left from other dogs. "Shh… it's okay sweetheart… I won't hurt you…" He bowed his head, knowing the sign of submission that was needed for this dog to trust him.
Clarissa stopped a few feet from him, worry clear in her eyes as he seemed to want that dog. "John, why don't you find another one, she… she might be aggressive because-"
"Am I aggressive?" He asked, slowly standing and opening the kennel to let the dog out.
"No! I just meant that her past-"
"If I can have a second chance so can she." He smiled as the dog jumped onto his chest, letting his body go limp as he tipped backwards so that it didn't hurt as bad when he hit the floor.
Thomas rushed toward John to see if the animal had hurt him at all, only to stop mid-step when he started laughing. "I think he found the one he wants." He chuckled, turning to look at the woman working at the shelter. "Does she have a name?"
She shook her head, handing John a leash as he finished with the collar. "Not that we know of."
John smiled, rubbing the pit-bull behind the ears. "Chance." He stated, taking a tag from his pocket. "Her name is Chance."