Service
Peanut nudges at Crockett’s legs, whining for his attention.
“Oh.”
He glances at the clock and realizes he’s been standing mindlessly at the stove half-dissociated for nearly five minutes, dinner on the verge of burning. He quickly stirs it in an attempt at rescue with one hand, appreciatively scratching Peanut’s head with the other.
“Good boy.”
Peanut responds by wagging his tail and pressing his heavy body against Crockett’s legs, a comforting pressure to keep him grounded. He’ll do the same when Crockett brings his quick dinner to the couch, throwing his heavy body onto Crockett’s lap and nosing at his hand for attention when he notices Crockett drifting off into his own head.
He’s been trying to get better. But the dissociating, the flashbacks, the loneliness, had been so debilitating that Goodwin enforced mandatory leave, during which time he looked into treatment and his counselor recommended a service dog. DPT, she had said, would be helpful. Peanut laying on top of Crockett comforts him and eases some of the ache in his chest. A dog to alert him when he’s still for too long will help him, she explained. Peanut nosing at Crockett when he’s dissociating or on the verge of it helps ground him back to reality. Someone or something being there during an episode will give him a reason to get out of bed. Peanut needing to be walked and fed has been the only thing that kept Crockett going some days.
Crockett feeds Peanut a scrap off his plate and strokes his soft fur. While this isn’t a cure all, Peanut is exactly what he’s been needing for a very long time.
