After a few moments, the man turned the phone toward Noah. “My name is Raymond. Three years ago, I was caught in a structural collapse during a rescue operation. I lost my voice and most of my hearing. In the chaos, my certified service K9 was separated from me while I was in intensive care. I was told he was processed and re-homed through an agency, but I could never track him down.”
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Noah stared at the text, his breath catching in his throat. He reached down to Axel’s tactical harness, flipping over the department ID tag. Beneath the police stamp was the dog's original rescue intake code.
Raymond typed again, his thumbs moving fast, tears welling in his eyes. “His name isn't Axel. It's Jax. I spent two years hand-training him. He knows me.”
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