Service Dogs

I saw her drive up with two dogs in her SUV
she had a little boy, about three years old,
who stood beside her while she waited
for the man at the car wash.

She seemed nervous, scanning faces
of those standing around; the other workers
and customers, keept a firm grasp

on her son’s hand keeping him close.

She asked about getting her car detailed
one of the dogs had gotten sick
and even though she cleaned it up
it still smelled bad, especially in the heat.

The man took a whiff and curled his nose
pulled back and quoted her a price,
which she accepted. A little later we were
sitting outside waiting for our cars to get done.

I noticed the little red vests on the dogs
and asked her about them, she answered,
“They are service dogs, trained to work with people
who suffer from PTSD. They can sense anxiety

and come in close for a cuddle to soothe the mind

for one who suffers from memories of severe trauma.”
I noticed her tattoos, an American flag and USMC
I asked if she served and were the dogs for her.

She smiled and answered, “Yes, and yes,
since returning I get anxious with strangers

or loud sounds. The black and white border collie

will retire soon and the brindle shepherd is in training.”

“God bless you and thank you,”  I said,

then we talked about other things, about her young son

her future plans and up-coming trips. Prayers for this fragile woman,

daughter, sister, wife, mother, finding her way after surviving a war.