*This one is for K. Your amazing journey with therapy dog breeders and trainers inspired this storyline! Of course your true love Cary Douglas must have a therapy dog too <333*

{Kurt}

St. Aidan's Queer Choir performance was everything Kurt hoped it would be. The old nave rang to the arched rafters with carols; folks from their church and the neighbourhood pressed shoulder to shoulder in the wooden pews. The whole White family filled the front row, Mel's face shining with pride and Pete's eyes crinkling in his smile.

The concert lacked the raucous energy of the shows Kurt had played before, but music was still music. Kurt's body was still singing with that energy when he and Jon finally freed themselves from the crowd afterwards.

Kurt told Cary he was taking Jon on a coffee shop date but to wait up for them to start a movie marathon of Jon's favourite martial artist, Tony Jaa.

However, Kurt was not taking Jon on a date--he was taking Jon to meet the beautiful dog he wanted to bring home for keeps. A present for Cary Douglas...and as long as Cary's home was Kurt's, let's be honest, a present for himself.

In the car on the way to the meet up, Jon scrolled through the dog photos Kurt had collected on his phone. "She's a retired mom," Kurt said.

"The dog?" Jon clarified.

"Greta," Kurt said dreamily. "We're so lucky to find an adult standard poodle that's trained and good with PTSD for that price. She's got all her shots and her spay and her fur is even 'allergy friendly.'"

Jon laughed softly. "You sound like you want to keep her for yourself."

"I'm a little smitten," Kurt admitted. More than a little--Greta's soulful eyes and long curly black-brown ears were all he'd been able to think about while he mudded and painted and finished their basement job. His heart was going like he was heading to a blind date and he couldn't stop grinning. "I found the breeder through AA--and she checks out. No sketchy puppy mills here. She's in town tonight and I just got her to squeeze in a meet up with us."

"Oh!" Jon's eyes widened. "This is happening tonight. Do we have everything we need? Dish? Food? Collar? Did you check if our fence is intact?"

Kurt bounced happily, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "Yup yup yup. I asked myself--WWJD? What would Jon do?--and I made a list and a plan--and anyways Greta comes with all that stuff already."

"Okay, wow." Grinning, Jon grabbed Kurt's hand, squeezing tight. "Kurt Visser, we're gonna be dog-dads!" he squealed.

Kurt shouted a laugh. "I know! Do you think Care will mind if I start her an Instagram page? Or am I getting ahead of myself?"

Jon laughed. "Maybe a little? Let's just make sure she actually likes us and uses the toilet outside to start."

{Cary}

Cary hummed tunelessly to one of Kurt's carols' playlists as he sorted through his pencil collection in his drawing studio. He had no particular plans to draw tonight and all his gifts were bought and wrapped, so he was just passing time 'til his housemates came home.

He thought the house felt different since their conversation the previous day. The bedrooms in the floor below weren't being temporarily filled by his brother and his partner while Jon finished school--this was their home together indefinitely, a lopsided little family unit.

The idea was growing on him. When Cary had bought this house with the inheritance from his elderly Aunt Tru's passing he'd imagined filling this home with a family. In his mind, that family had looked like a wife and a child or two of their own, and maybe the woman in the picture bore a strong resemblance to his long-time high school sweetheart, Kadee Yoshenko.

Piece by piece, that dream had faded and recently Cary had just let it go as something he didn't know how to make in reality. If God his Father had a wife and kids in mind for him, He was going to have to work it out Himself with whatever divine powers he might have up His sleeve. Constantly hoping and looking for a partner hurt too much and Cary had enough hurt for a lifetime before he was twenty-five.

He found himself settling in to be content with the good things he already had. Jon's happy partnership with Kurt made Cary happy by proxy, and he was grateful for their extended family relationship with Pete and Mel, his lively, creative friendship with Bea, the round of weekly activities with their church, and steady honest work that didn't require him to make much chat. He'd even taken Laurel and her daughter Molly for groceries and ended up going out for ice creams after; Cary was surprised how much he had enjoyed the conversation with the sharp, irreverent redhead. All things taken together, Cary had more than enough to get by.

If he was lonely and anxious in the middle of the night when he woke up to an empty bed, it was a small thing. The long empty years that he had feared if he didn't find a wife were not in his future anytime soon. Cary was happy enough.

At the sound of the front door opening, Cary's general anxiety about being alone in the house eased and he clumped down the stairs. Jon met him before he got to the bottom, his face alight with some secret as he held up his hands.

"Just a sec," Jon said. "We're not ready for you yet."

Cary tried to see around him down the stairs. "Why?"

"Is Misty sleeping in your room?" Jon asked, like this was relevant.

"Probably," Cary said, checking behind him. "Yup. What's up?"

Jon pressed his lips together, his eyes narrowing in a repressed grin. "Maybe just shut her in?" When that was done, Jon took a big breath, still preventing Cary from going down the stairs. "So me and Kurt went to get your Christmas present. And he really wanted to get you a puppy..."

Cary huffed a laugh, but he was becoming a little alarmed. "You talked sense into him, right? I do not have time or patience to train a puppy."

"Uh huh," Jon said. "We did not get you a puppy."

"Ready!" Kurt's voice sang out from the living room.

Jon giggled, running down the steps in front of Cary. "See for yourself."

Under their Christmas tree was a large crate topped with a giant sparkly bow. Kurt was folded beside the crate, his colourful head bent to coo into the grate at the front. "You're safe darlin'--you're almost home."

Cary recognized the dust and hair smell of dog, and heard quiet panting and shuffling. Kurt looked up and grinned. "Merry Christmas, big man. Course we didn't forget you." He swung the grate of the crate open. "Come on out, beautiful girl," Kurt coaxed softly. "Come meet your guy."

A long elegant black snout emerged and a pair of liquid brown eyes framed by floppy ears. Tentatively, the dog stepped out of the crate, straightening to her full height. She had legs for days and a short curly black coat with a splash of brown on her back like someone just poured the milk into their coffee. Cary was speechless, hardly breathing.

The dog turned to Kurt first, sitting on the floor beside her, and he cupped his hands for her to sniff. Tail waving, she licked his wrist and then his cheek and Kurt's eyes disappeared in his smile.

She tip-tapped to Jon, lifting her head to gaze seriously at him, and he fondled her ear. "Hey Greta," Jon said. He gave her shoulder a little nudge towards Cary. "Go meet your person."

Getting on one knee, Cary kept his hands open by his sides. He was a big human for a dog to feel safe with, even a full sized dog like this one. He already loved the calm, graceful way she moved across the room toward him. "Her name is Greta?" he confirmed. Her ears pricked at his voice.

"Mm-hm," Kurt said, watching with his fingers against his mouth. "I'll tell you all the things in a second."

Cary held out a hand and Greta's cool nose poked into his palm, then she lifted her head to sniff his face and neck. Cary huffed a laugh as she licked him from his beard to his ear. "Hey Greta," he greeted her. "Can you sit for me?"

Promptly, Greta sank back on her hips, tail sweeping the floor, looking expectantly at him.

"Good girl," Cary said, surprised at her immediate obedience. He stroked her soft skull, taking care with her curly ears since they seemed thin and fragile compared to his big, calloused fingers. Greta's mouth opened in a long doggy grin and he rubbed his fingers in the corner of her ear where the dogs at his Aunt's farm used to love a good scratch. Mutts, all of them. Greta was a very classy lady compared to those lads.

"What is she?" Cary asked.

"She's a standard poodle momma, just retired," Kurt said. "But she's not as fussy as she sounds. She's trained to be a therapy dog, or at least she has the basics. Once you get to know each other, hopefully she'll help you out when you're getting' triggered. She needs two walks a day and a human home a couple hours to keep her company."

As he listened, Cary stroked his hands over Greta's coat, feeling her lean muscles and broad chest panting in and out. Her eyes studied him as curiously as he was studying her.

"Well sweetheart," Cary said, and her ears lifted again. "How about we go for a walk right now and get to know each other."

She leapt to her feet at the word 'walk', dancing in place with a series of joyous barks, and they all laughed.

"I got the leash and harness here somewhere," Kurt said, digging through a shopping bag.

Jon was sitting criss-crossed on the big armchair, eyes shining with happiness. "Should we wait for you to start the movie?" he asked.

Cary crinkled his eyes at him. "I've seen 'The Protector' a dozen times with you. Go ahead and introduce your husband to the marvellous Tony Jaa. Me and Greta will be home after we take a turn around the block."

{Kurt}

Kurt knew next to nothing about martial arts movies. He wasn't sure what this movie 'The Protector' was about--there were elephants and a village and a jungle? And everything was subtitles. He was only half following, distracted by running his fingers through Jon's hair, as he lay with his cheek on Kurt's leg, and wondering how Greta was getting along with her new person.

When the front door opened and closed, there was a jingle of Greta's harness, and then she trotted across the room, pausing for a sniff of Kurt and Jon in their nest of blankets and pillows on the living room floor, then heading for her water and food bowl now set out in the kitchen. Cary stumped to his chair and dropped into it, kicking his footrest up. "What part are we on?" he asked.

"Staircase scene is coming up," Jon said.

Kurt watched Greta climb into her crate and lie down with a sigh on the towels he'd used to pad the floor. "Good walk?" he asked.

Cary crinkled his eyes at him. "Yup. I think she's a keeper. She just needs to decide if I am. Story of my life."

"Oof," Kurt said softly. Some days it was hard on his heart to be a feely queer living with these two thick-skinned men. He felt all the things they brushed off.

Jon tapped his knee. "Watch this, watch this," he said. On screen, the compact Thai action hero kicked a pair of doors open and proceeded in one long unbroken cut to fight his way up a massive staircase studded with bad guys. *Want to watch it with the guys? Here 'tis! Story continued below.*

https://youtu.be/Bqw369ZskMk

Jon laughed softly as Tony Jaa punched and knee jabbed and dodged, trying to explain to Kurt what he was doing in terms Kurt could understand.

Kurt was boggled. No strings, no computer animation, just sheer physicality driving all this action. "Can you do all this, Jon?" he asked.

Jon shot a look up at his face. "Are you kidding me? Tony Jaa is a freaking legend. He runs up walls. His camera man had to train for six weeks just to keep up with him in this scene."

Kurt's lips curled in a teasing smile, checking out Tony Jaa's lean muscles and his dapper kerchief in the open collar of his shirt. "I feel like you have a little crush on this Tony Jaa guy."

In the chair behind them, Cary snorted a laugh.

Jon made a dismissive noise with his lips. "Tony Jaa is too much of a dude for me."

Both men turned to look at him, baffled, and Jon grinned up into Kurt's face. "Was this not obvious?" He reached a hand to twist a piece of Kurt's hair around his finger. "I love all your queer bits, Visser. You're much prettier than Tony Jaa."

Kurt's eyebrows lifted. "Hm, well I'm taking a second look. He reminds me of someone I know. I have a thing for shoulders." But he didn't take a second look because Jon's hand drew his face down for a kiss.

Behind them, Cary heaved a sigh. "Oh-kay, hello gays, your ace housemate is right here. Can you keep it G-rated over there?"

Kurt and Jon separated, Jon's eyes sparkling with laughter as he wiped his lips. He tipped his head back to look at Cary. "Wait, what?"

Cary had a couple little pots of paint open, a small model bear in his fingers. His eyebrows were drawn in a straight line and he didn't look up from the careful brush strokes he was making over the bear's back.

"Did you just come out to us as ace, Cary?" Jon asked.

"Oop." Kurt put his fingers to his lips. "I knew already."

Sighing, Cary paused the movie. "Yeah I guess I did," he said.

A wrinkle appeared in Jon's forehead as he looked between them both. "Okay, um. I love you, Care, obviously. Thank you for trusting me." He pressed his lips together and seemed to struggle for a moment before bursting out, "I'm really sorry but I also have a hundred questions. Can I ask you or do you want me to Google it?"

Cary made a huffing noise. "Google that shit."

"Can I just ask one?" Jon asked in a small voice. "That Google won't tell me?"

Cary rolled his eyes. "You're gonna anyways."

"I thought Kadee..." Jon took a breath and held it a second, studying his brother with that worried expression. "I thought you and her were good together," Jon went on hesitantly. "Am I misunderstanding what 'ace' means? Didn't you...?"

Cary' face softened. "Yeah we did." He set the bear down, cleaning the tip of his brush on a towel draped over the chair arm before answering the unspoken question. "It's none of your business but...I get that sex is a big part of your life now so. We did all the things. And it was good for me eventually. Because Kamiko was patient as hell and I got to feel--safe with her. And it turns out that's rare."

Kurt felt the ache behind those words and his arm tightened around Jon's chest. Cary glanced at him briefly and Kurt's mouth curled up for him. He got it; Cary knew he would.

The big man shrugged. "Sex is just a lot of work for me and my partner and I'm fine without. So that's--that."

"What happened with Kamiko?" Kurt asked. It was a lot of years and a lot of partners ago for him, but he thought he remembered Kadee being an energetic, positive person with a drop-dead gorgeous walk-in closet.

Cary glanced out the window and his face lifted with a smile. "She's in Toronto bein' smart and amazing. Uh--studying pre-law. She'll be a kick ass lawyer in a couple years, wearin' six-inch heels and sending bad guys to jail. You would love her shoe collection, Visser."

Kurt chuckled. "I'm sure I would."

"Why did you break up?" Jon asked softly. "I really--thought you were good together."

Cary met Jon's eyes. "Because I'm not movin'," he said simply. "And she's not comin' back to this dinky little city for me."

"Because the Whites are here?" Kurt guessed. He already felt the appeal of settling close enough to Pete and Mel to have Mom and Dad hugs and family dinners together every month.

Cary nodded once, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. "Yeah, that. An' my PTSD is next level when I'm over there visiting the big city. Which we tried." He shivered, looking aside. "An' I want to be here. If Liam ever comes lookin' for me," he finished in a low voice.

In her crate, Greta lifted her head, then stood and click-clacked over to Cary's knees. She put her paws on his legs to sniff his neck and face. Surprised, Cary rubbed her sides, looking back at her. "What is it, sweetheart?" he asked.

It clicked for Kurt. "Are you triggered? She smells when you're getting' panicky."

Cary's black eyes touched Kurt's face; he didn't say anything but Kurt saw he was right.

"Come on up here, Greta," Cary said gruffly, and he used his big arms to haul her into his lap. Unperturbed, Greta got her footing, sitting on his knee and leaning her body against his chest, tongue lolling out as she calmly panted against him. Cary took a deep breath, hugging one tattooed arm around her and hiding his face against her shoulder. "Jesus." His voice was soft and frayed. "You feel like a million bucks, sweetheart. I could get used to this."

Kurt's heart lifted and he swiped his eyes quick as he smiled. Of all the dozens of times he'd seen his friend get triggered and just manage his anxiety on his own, this time he'd been able to do something to help. Greta was all he'd been hoping to make his friend's life better.

Jon touched his palm to Kurt's cheek, catching his eyes. "You're amazing," Jon whispered. "Best dog dad ever."

*Greta you darling. This little story line is inspired by my own 'spoo' crush. There's a local therapy dog breeder with a retiring poodle momma hopefully joining our family in 2022!

I just need to convince my cat that this is a good idea.

Poodles are very smart, emotionally intuitive dogs. Their intelligence makes them easy to train, and they are not an aggressive breed. They make excellent companions for people with PTSD like Cary or anxiety like my husband. I can't wait to tell Cary and Greta stories in future projects!*

3114 words.