The First Steps
By dawn, the transformation was nothing short of a miracle. Max was sitting up, leaning against the wall, but holding his own head high. Dr. Aris returned in the morning, his eyes widening as he walked into the room. “I’ve read about these recoveries, but seeing it is something else,” he admitted, kneeling to scratch Max behind the ears—avoiding the spot where the tick had been.
Now came the real test. The paralysis had faded, but Max’s muscles had wasted away from months of inactivity. They needed to see if he could walk. The technician brought a special harness with handles to help support his weight. Sarah stood at the other end of the room, her hands over her mouth, her heart pounding. “Come on, Max,” she whispered. “Come to me, boy.”
Max’s legs shook like jelly. He took one tentative step, his back left leg sliding out from under him. The technician caught him, steadying his hips. Max grunted—a sound of pure determination that Sarah hadn’t heard in years. He adjusted his stance, took a second step, and then a third. He wobbled like a newborn fawn, but he was moving. He reached Sarah and collapsed into her arms, wagging his tail so hard his whole back end shook.
