Page 26 of Old-Fashioned

Thankfully, I had a big blanket in the back of my car.

Once I had that and had gotten something to eat, I made a pallet in front of his kennel as he slept, my fingers were through the door, laying on one of his paws.

Minutes.

Hours.

I couldn’t tell you how much time had passed when I felt something wet on my fingers.

I lifted my head and looked at him to see he had moved his head and licked my fingers which caused me to giggle.

“Hey, boy, you don’t know this, but you will soon. I’m taking you home with me. I’ve got a good amount of land where you can run to your heart’s content. I’ve got a big ol’ fireplace where you can curl up in the winter months. Now, for all that to happen, I need you to fight just a little bit longer. And if you do that, I promise I will always fight for you.”

And I swear, it was almost as if he understood every word that came out of my mouth, because I watched as his eyes closed, then opened, and stared at me.

***

The next morning, the staff helped me get him in the back of my Jeep.

And once we pulled up in front of my house, I helped half carry him up the stairs, and into my house.

He slowly moved around the living room, but I could tell he wanted to explore more, but his body just couldn’t do it.

Thankfully, the delivery I ordered was waiting on my front porch.

Once I got the dog bed settled in the corner of the living room, one in my room, his dog food bowl and water bowl settled, I tossed the toys I got him in a wicker basket I had found at a yard sale a few weeks ago.

Thankfully, I had the next three days off, and that gave me plenty of time to spend with him.

Sitting there on the floor as a movie played in the background, while I moved my hands over his body, trying not cry as I could feel every bone in his body.

The vet had also told me that he suspected the dog was a full-blooded Cane Corso. I did some research on his breed last night.

Damn what people thought. They didn’t know what lay in a dog’s heart. None of them did.

So, with that being the case, I moved my hand and ran my fingers over his ears. Over his scarred-up, docked ears, and said, “We need a name for you buddy. And I know that when you get bigger, you’re going to need a name that fits you. So, let’s try a few. Okay?”

He didn’t move but just stared at me.

“Slade?” No response.

“Talon?” No response.

“Cane?” No response.

But when “Ryker,” fell from my lips, he lifted his head, licked my cheek, and then laid his head back down.

I smiled at him, “Okay, Ryker it is.”

Two days later, he was able to move around the house thanks to his medicine, and I learned that if he didn’t have eyes on me no matter where I was in the house, he moved so he did.

It was as I was getting ready for my shift that I told him, “You’re going to be alone for a little while, Ryker. I need you to be a good boy. Okay?”

I petted his head and finished with my hair, plaiting it.

Once I was ready, I made sure he had plenty of water, and since I fed him this just an hour ago and made sure he did his business outside, he should be good.

But I unwrapped a bone for him and placed it on his bed in the living room.

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