Hunting Hour

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“Whom do you trust, Mattie?”

Mattie drew her knees up, hugging them to her chest. The question her therapist posed made her pause to think. Finally, she answered. “Robo.”

From across the living room, where he was lying on his dog bed, her German shepherd cocked his head, ears pricked.

Although the Skype image on Mattie’s laptop wavered occasionally, it was still clear enough to see the change in her therapist’s expression. The kindness in Dr. Lisa Callahan’s smile radiated warmth that could melt even Mattie’s reserve.

When her brother, Willie, contacted her last fall after years of silence, he’d opened a Pandora’s box of repressed memories centering on her abusive father that had sent her reeling. She’d been unable to process them by herself, so she’d sought counseling with Lisa, a therapist who specialized in trauma and often worked with cops and soldiers.

“Robo has evidently proven himself trustworthy,” Lisa said. “What does it feel like inside your body when you think about trusting Robo?”

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