“I want to see him.”
She was wearing a pink coat again.
Not the same one. The first had torn at the shoulder when Titan knocked her down.
Titan saw her and went perfectly still.
His ears lowered. His tail moved once, uncertainly.
I had never considered that he might remember frightening her.
“Titan, easy.”
He approached one step at a time.
Lily held out her hand.
He sniffed her fingers.
Then he sat.
She touched the top of his head.
“You’re heavy,” she told him.
Rachel laughed.
I did too.
Lily reached into her pocket and pulled out a yellow rubber disc no bigger than her palm.
“My dad bought me a new frisbee. This one is for him.”
I looked at Titan.
“You hear that? You got paid.”
He took the toy only after I gave permission.
That afternoon, Lily learned how K9 officers worked. She watched Titan find a hidden training object and bark at a decoy. I made sure she also saw him fail a search, get distracted by a dropped piece of hot dog, and sneeze directly into my face.
Heroes, I wanted her to understand, were allowed to be animals too.
The man with the branch visited the station a month later.
His name was Carl.
He had been bothered by how close he came to striking Titan.
“I keep seeing my hands over my head,” he said. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“You thought a child was being attacked.”
“Still.”
I nodded.
“Then use the feeling. Next emergency, make yourself look for one more fact before you swing.”
