Maria blinked. “He… never does that. Not with strangers. And definitely not with children.” Emily felt the warm tug in her chest deepen. “Maybe he just needed the right people.” But David wasn’t convinced. “Or maybe he’s unpredictable,” he murmured, voice low enough that only Emily heard. “We can’t assume this is safe.”
Maria nodded sympathetically. “We’ll walk you through everything. Slow introductions. Boundaries. Structure. He’s gentle. But trauma can make even the kindest dog unsure of itself.” She softened. “Still… look at him. He’s choosing you.” Emily turned to Ranger. His gaze met hers—steady, calm, almost pleading.
Something passed between them again, the same silent understanding she’d felt the moment she knelt at his kennel. “We want him,” Emily said before fear could interrupt. “We’ll give him a home.” David inhaled sharply, but he didn’t argue. Instead he looked at Ranger long and hard, as if trying to read a future only the dog could see.
“Alright,” he finally said. “But we’re doing this carefully.” Maria nodded. “Carefully is good.” Bringing Ranger home was nothing like Emily imagined. There were no excited yips, no tail-spinning hellos. He stepped through the front door slowly, each paw placement deliberate.