The explosion that had ended his career had also taken part of his mobility, leaving scars across his body and months of recovery that stretched into years. Doctors had told him he was lucky to be alive. Therapists had helped him relearn basic movements. But no one had been able to give him back the one thing he kept thinking about during the long nights in rehabilitation centers.
Titan.
The dog had been his partner overseas.
They had trained together for nearly three years before deploying to Afghanistan, and in the strange world of bomb disposal where one wrong step can change everything, the bond between a handler and his dog becomes something deeper than simple training.
But after the explosion, when Aaron was evacuated out of the combat zone unconscious, the military reassigned Titan the way it always does. Dogs are too valuable to sit idle waiting for injured handlers who might never return.
That was the official explanation Aaron had received months later in a short letter.
