Lily pressed her face against the bars, babbling happily, and Ranger’s ears twitched at the sound. The shelter tech, Maria, cleared her throat gently. “Before you finalize this… there’s something you should know.” Emily and David exchanged a look. Maria pulled a thin file from the cabinet.
“Ranger came in from a previous owner who intended to train him as a guard dog. But instead of proper training, he….” She hesitated, choosing her words. “…he was treated harshly. Very harshly.” David stiffened. “What does that mean, exactly?” “He was underweight,” Maria said softly.
“Bruising. Fear response to raised voices. He wouldn’t eat for days. He’s made progress, but trauma doesn’t fully disappear.” She glanced toward the kennel. “Honestly, I’ve never seen him approach anyone the way he approached your daughter.”
They all turned. Ranger had pressed his nose gently to the bars again, watching Lily with an expression that—Emily swore—held something like worry. Lily giggled, reaching through with her tiny hand. Ranger’s tail gave one slow, careful wag.