“Good morning.” The volunteer of the day at the reception desk greeted the woman with a smile.
The woman didn’t smile back. “I want to speak to the person in charge.” Her Arkansas hill country drawl emphasized the weight of her life. “Somebody needs to take this here dog off my hands.”
Jori stood up and came forward, hand extended. “Good morning, Mrs. Williams. How may I help you?”
Sarah looked her up and down, wariness in her washed-out blue gaze. “You’re one of the trainers, right? I need a higher-up.”
“I’m sorry, but Kelli’s out seeing about another dog right now. I’m sure she’ll be glad to talk with you when she returns. We expect her back in about twenty minutes. Would you like a bottle of water? Or maybe coffee. It’s awfully cold today.”
Sarah shook her head, mouth working impatiently. “I just came to deliver your dog back to you. We can’t use him no more.”
“Is that so?” Jori looked down at Yuki. “May I pet him?”
The Sarah looked startled. “I guess so. He’s your dog.”
And that’s the problem, Jori thought as she knelt down. Sarah hadn’t bonded with Yuki. Kelli had just done a workshop for trainers about the wives and mothers of veterans, longtime caregivers like Sarah who had trouble adjusting to the help that a service dog could provide.
As she rubbed Yuki’s head with both hands, she sought a casual tone. “How’s Mr. Williams?”
“Mike’s fine.” She glanced back at the door. “He don’t want to come in. And I can’t stay. So if you’ll just…” She extended Yuki’s leash to Jori.
Jori stood up, pretending not to understand the gesture. “Why don’t you and Yuki come with me?” She turned and began walking away, gambling that Mrs. Williams wouldn’t just abandon the dog in the middle of the room.
Once inside the privacy of Kelli’s office, Jori waved her hand toward one of the chairs. “Have a seat and tell me what’s wrong.”
“Like I told you, I can’t stay. Mike’s in the truck.” Sarah sat down, pushing her fingers through short silver hair that Jori was almost sure was self-cut.
“Yuki’s a nice dog, and all. Quiet, easygoing. And he don’t shed, just like you said. Only he’s interfering with my schedule. I can’t have that.”
“Of course not. What’s Yuki doing?”
Sarah’s combative expression eased a bit at the sound of Jori’s sympathetic tone. “He’s got it in his doggy head that he can tell Mike when his medicine’s due. I came in the other day from shopping to find Mike had already took his meds half an hour early. He said Yuki had brought the medicine organizer and put it in his lap so he thought it must be time.”
Jori nodded, giving herself a moment to think about how to phrase her reply. Yuki was one of those dogs who was a self-starter, able to learn routines to the point where it seemed he could even tell time. Some saw that as a blessing. But other caregivers saw the service dog as being in competition for the attention and affection of the client.
“You know, there’s another way to think about that. Yuki was taking care of Mike. What if you’d been delayed in traffic?”
Sarah shook her head and frowned. “I learned a long time ago to shop at odd hours, after eight p.m. or before six in the morning. I got to know there’s no traffic so I can get back in a hurry.” The tension in her voice said more than her words.
“You worry that Mike might not be able to get or do something he needs to while you’re out.”
She jerked her head once in agreement.
“So, in a way, isn’t it nice that Yuki has paid enough attention to realize then Mr. Williams needs his medication?”
“The dog was half an hour too early!” To Jori’s surprise Sarah blinked back big crystal-bright tears. “Not that anyone cares, besides me. Mike thinks that damn dog hung the moon. Won’t even allow me to help him in and out of the shower no more. Tells me to leave him alone. He and Yuki can manage. After all I done all these years.” She bit her lip and dug in her pocket for a tissue.
Jori offered one from the box at her elbow and waited for the woman to calm a bit.
“Sorry about that.” Sarah offered Jori a small smile and, without seeming to realize it, reached down and began stroking Yuki, who had stood up to lean against her leg. “It’s just a bit much what with a dog to look after on top of Mike.”
Jori almost jumped in, but Sarah looked like she had more to say so Jori sat on her impulse.
The older woman looked at the floor. “It’s not been easy since Mike come home from the Gulf War. Never been able to hold down a job for long, on account of mobility issues. So, I worked and looked after him and the kids.” She looked up suddenly. “But I never minded that. The kids are grown up now and need their lives to be their own. Me and Mike have a routine.”
Jori nodded.