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can't get close to him I can't treat him.”
    “I can come in every day.”
    “That would help.”
    Axe nuzzled Mike’s hand prompting him for another pat. The dog sighed, relaxing, and finally took his eyes off the vet.
    “Do you think he'll work again?”
    The vet shook his head. “No, his days of chasing down bad guys are over.”
    Mike continued to stroke the dog's ears. “You hear that, boy. Looks like it's going to be all ball-chasing and lying in the sun from here on.” In spite of his words, Mike felt empty. The idea of going to work each day, and not having Axe by his side, would take time to come to terms with.
    Remembering work, he checked his watch. Crap, he was going to be late. He gave Axe another pat. “I've got to get going, buddy, be good for the doc.”
    “That would make a nice change,” said the vet.
    Mike closed the dog’s cage. As he rose Axe whined while glancing up at him with sad brown eyes. “Hey, none of that. I'll be back this afternoon.” Mike gave him one last pat through the mesh and followed the vet out into the waiting area.
    “He's a good dog, Mike. But, if we can't turn his temperament around we're going to have problems.”
    Mike shook his hand. “He'll be fine.” Then he ducked out of the door to his pickup. As he drove across town to Coronado, he couldn't help but worry that Axe’s attitude change might be permanent.
     
    ***
     
    Mike pulled up to the twenty-five yard shooting range and joined the rest of his squad for training.
    He spotted TJ at the ammunition point, loading magazines from a box of cartridges. The Chief looked fresh despite a heavy night’s drinking.
    “Hey bud, how’s Axe?”
    “He’s OK, the wound looks like it’ll heal.” He found his weapons in the squad trunk and laid them on the ground before joining TJ to fill magazines.
    Already at the firing point, the other squad members were shooting their suppressed carbines at paper targets.
    Mike and TJ worked in silence for a few minutes before TJ spoke again. “You wanna tell me what’s eating at you?”
    Mike dropped a half-filled magazine on the bench. “He won’t let the vet near him. I’ve never seen him like this, TJ, his entire temperament has changed.”
    “Bud, I’ve seen the same thing in operators. They take a big hit like that and suddenly they’re jumping at shadows and snapping at their closest friends. Sounds like your boy’s got post traumatic stress disorder. When are they going to let you bring him back to work?”
    “They’re not. Vet says he’s done.”
    “Shit bud.” TJ reached out and grasped his shoulder. “I’m sorry, he was a great working dog.”
    “Hey, what’s up?” asked Rick as he and Ernie joined them.
    “Axe is going to be retired,” said Mike.
    “Ah crap. I’m sorry, dude,” said Ernie.
    “That’s shit bro, he’s an amazing dog,” added Rick.
    Mike sighed. “The big problem isn’t his leg. He won’t let anyone near him, except me. TJ thinks he might have PTSD.”
    Rick nodded. “Yeah that makes sense. Getting shot messes with the best of us. But he’ll be OK in the long run. You’ll keep him, right?”
    “How can I? We’re out on jobs every second day and I can’t leave him with just anyone.”
    “I’d take him,” added Ernie. “But with the kids…”
    “I understand,” said Mike.
    “Look, if you need to take some time off I can talk to the Skipper,” said TJ.
    “Yeah, I might have to.” Mike picked up his magazine and went back to loading it. The others did likewise.
    “Ernie, that little rat dog your mother has,” said Rick. “I remember it being a total shit head. Who sorted it out, when her neighbor’s mutt tried to eat it?”
    Ernie scowled. “That ‘rat’ was a pedigree Chihuahua, you idiot. Yeah, someone did help her. My brother found a vet out near Iron Canyon who specializes in traumatized dogs.”
    “And she fixed your Mom’s Chihuahua?” asked Mike.
    Ernie nodded. “Allegedly, she’s Dr. Doolittle