(Dianne) Fox Writes

“Do you need an ambulance?” A kindly-looking older woman had her phone out.

“No!” Jasper gulped and shook his head. “It’s okay. It… it just happens. I can get home.” Samson could feel him shaking; maybe it was the seizure, but now Jasper smelled like fear. “Come on, Samson.” He wasn’t ready to be walking, but he tugged on Samson’s leash to get Samson to move.

“Jeremy can walk you home,” the woman said, patting at the arm of the scrawny teenager lurking behind her. “Go on, Jer.”

“Oh, no.” Jasper clutched Samson’s leash to him as he backed away, about to fall off the curb. “Samson can help me.”

Samson made sure to flash the SERVICE DOG panel on the sides of his harness as he circled and settled himself at Jasper’s side. Whether it was that or his unusual size that made people back off, Samson didn’t care. As soon as the walk sign lit up, he guided Jasper across the street. The sooner they showed that Jasper was well enough to walk, the sooner the strangers would leave him alone. And then the sour smell of Jasper’s fear would stop clogging Samson’s nose and throat.

Jasper leaned against him as they walked, giving up on the leash with one hand to hold the harness between Samson’s shoulder blades. He could stay upright as long as Samson steered. “I saw something in the street,” he muttered as they got to the other side. Looking over his shoulder, he let Samson guide him so he didn’t walk into the newspaper box. “It was so dark. There was a little white cat. It was trying to get to me, but it ran in front of a car, and…”