“I want to foster him when he’s discharged.”
Dr. Morris smiled.
“I wondered how long that sentence would take.”
“Foster.”
“Of course.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
A week after I found him, Sombra came home with me.Browse Reference
He left the clinic wrapped in the same type of blanket I had used at the park, except now his head was lifted.
He watched the parking lot.
He watched my truck.
When I opened the rear door, he hesitated.
“Recognize it?”
His nose moved.
I lifted him carefully.
He no longer felt weightless.
Not heavy.
But different.
There was substance returning to him.
At home I had converted part of the living room into a recovery area.
Thick bedding.
Washable pads.
Water within easy reach.
A low food bowl.Try New Foods
Baby gates.
A rehabilitation sling.
No stairs.
Sombra inspected everything from his bed.
“This is temporary,” I told him.
