(March 31, 2011)
(this is after we get home from the vet’s office)

“This is Colby Browning for Dr. Johnston,” I said to Milly the secretary. She put me on hold and transferred the call.
“This is Dr. Johnston,” he said when he came on the line.
“Hey, doc, this is that guy that pulled a gun on you earlier,” I said hesitatingly. There was only silence. “Anyway, I’m just calling to apologize for that. I would never have pulled the trigger and you were in no danger at any point. I just had to get back there and make sure that Scar got treated.”
When the doctor first spoke, there was steel in his voice, but it softened. “That was incredibly stupid and dangerous,” he said. Then his voice softened. “But I appreciate the apology and I understand what you were going through. She’s a beautiful young wolf and you’re very lucky to have her. She’s headstrong and fearless, and I wish both of you the best of luck.”
Doctor Johnston and I exchanged a few more pleasantries, but the substance of the conversation had passed. I disconnected the call and glanced over at Scar. Her eyes were wide from fighting off the effects of the sedative, even though she was walking around just fine. She seemed terrified to fall asleep, lest she never wake again.
“Scar, it’s okay, babe,” I said to soothe her. “You’re gonna be just fine. I’m not going to let anything like that happen to you ever again. You understand me, Scar? Never. I love you too damn much.”
She glanced up at me, then locked her gaze on the road again. Why that was, I’m not sure. Maybe the rhythmic pattern of the asphalt was soothing and calming. I know that driving always calms me down. Or flying. One of the two.
When we finally got home, I picked her up and carried her into the house. I didn’t quite trust her legs yet. I made her a nice little bed and she laid in it and watched me the entire time. Her eyes never left me, a sign that she was more cognitive than I had thought.
I longed to see her running again, to see her chasing, to hear her paws whispering on the hardwood floors the way they were supposed to, the freedom that it gave her to explore the world beyond her previous experiences in Jasper Park Canada. But most of all, I just wanted her to be happy and with me.
Her being stuck in a bed made of hastily thrown together blankets and pillows away from my side was driving her bat shit crazy for the most part. She couldn’t stand being confined over there, so I tried to spend my time over there, whispering and crooning to her, stroking her long wavy thick beautiful fur, and testing her intellect to make sure that she was alright.
She was able to answer every question I posed correctly, which I took as a good sign.

A few hours later, Scar started insisting that she was ready to try to stand. I really didn't want to push it, but I decided to let her try, but I would stand close.
She seemed a little intimidated, but went ahead. Once she was actually standing on all four paws, she seemed a little wobbly, but Scar stayed standing.
Thus encouraged, she took a few tentative steps.

After lunch, which had seemed hours away in the vets office, Scar went outside. It took her a second to get coordinated enough to get through the automatic door, but she made it and through the window I saw her walk around the side of the house.
I was somewhat curious as to what she was doing over there, but I didn't pay too much mind to it.

30 minutes later, she still hadn't come back inside and I was starting to get a little worried.
I went outside, calling her name.
"Scar... Scar..."
She didn't respond.
I called her name a good dozen more times, but still never got an answering call.
At this point, I was scared shitless that something had happened to her.
I searched every nook and cranny of the house, plus all the stuff outside where a wolf could hide. I couldn't find her.
"Scar!" I yelled, starting to freak.
A few more minutes of searching was enough to determine that she wasn't on the property.
I finally realized that I was going to have to search from the air. I made my way to the MD500, but before I made it to the bird, I I caught a glimpse of red fur through a gap in a clump of bushes.
"Scar!" I yelled happily, running to her. She was cornered in the middle of the clump and I could only reach her paws, but nothing more. Her head was turned away from me. She seemed determined to stay out of my reach.

"Scar? Honey?" I said to her.
She turned to me and I could see the tear tracks in her fur. The sight of them tore my heart.
"Scar, what's wrong?" I asked softly.
"What happened yesterday!" she cried. "What I told you wasn't true."
I settled down onto the grass and waited. "What happened?"
"That dog... He tried to mount me. That's why I snapped at him and that's why he bit me."
"Oh my god, Scar, I'm so sorry, babe," I said, stunned beyond belief. I started tearing up a little myself.
"This is so upsetting," she sobbed. "I want things to back to the way they used to be."
She buried her face in her paws and sobbed.
I knew what I had to do. I went back to the house, grabbed a bowl, filled it with "water", and came back out with a good blanket.
Scar saw me coming with the "water" and started thumping her tail.
When I had the blanket and stuff set up, I put the "water" down. Scar crawled out on her belly and over to the bowl. I hoped that she wouldn't realize what I had done.
When the bowl was empty, which I hadn't filled up all the way, Scar laid down on the blanket and stretched out. She pretended to be asleep, but I knew that she would be in a few minutes.

Scar looked up at me and the look on her face made me laugh and cry all at once. She didn't know what I had done, but I felt like she did.
When her eyes closed, I sighed. I felt like total shit for doing this to her, but I didn't have a choice. I bundled her in the blanket and carried her into the house.