Koda didn’t move an inch, his deep brown eyes watching the boy with an understanding that went beyond words. He wasn’t just a police dog in that moment—he was comfort, warmth, and maybe even a small piece of something the boy had lost.I swallowed the lump in my throat and gently placed a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “What’s your name, buddy?”He hesitated, still holding on to Koda, then mumbled, “Ethan.”“Ethan,” I repeated softly. “I’m Officer Daniels, and this here is Koda.”
His small fingers ran through Koda’s fur absentmindedly. I could tell he was trying to stay composed, but the way his shoulders trembled told a different story.“You wanna tell me about your dad’s dog?” I asked carefully.Ethan sniffled, pulling back just enough to look at Koda’s face. “His name was Duke. He was big, like Koda. My dad loved him.” His voice wavered. “But then… my dad left, and Duke was gone, too.”I took a slow breath, giving Ethan space to continue if he wanted. He didn’t look up at me, just kept petting Koda as if letting go would make everything real again.
“Did he leave just Duke, or…?” I let the question hang, not wanting to push too hard.Ethan shrugged, his lip trembling. “Mom says he left us, too.”I felt something heavy settle in my chest. I’d seen a lot in my years on the force—some things I could fix, others I could only witness. But nothing quite hit like a kid struggling with something they didn’t understand, something they had no control over.Koda nuzzled into Ethan’s side, and for the first time, a tiny smile flickered on the boy’s lips. It was barely there, but it was something.“Do you live close by?” I asked gently.He nodded. “Yeah, with my mom. She’s at work right now.”
