It had started out as a pretty normal morning for the young witch. She had gone to see her Ministry ordered therapist (Once, she swore she would only go once!) and after about three hours of attempted therapy the therapist had asked her if she liked animals.
Somewhat perplexed by the sudden question the witch had nodded and one thing led to another and then she was on her way to the Magical Menagerie to see if she could find a service animal that worked with her, specially trained familiars for owners with trauma.
Because apparently that could help her out.
Marilyn had never actually had a pet of her own, simply because she had never really wanted one. Her moms had had a dog and her sisters had had cats so she knew enough about both. But hadn't ever really done much with either.
And she had no idea what to look for. Mari knew that with a familiar, you didn't look you just knew, so that was what she was hoping for. The witch passed by the terrariums with snakes and frogs without much interest, being pulled towards the back end of the shop. There she saw a few pens full of puppies and small dogs who had just begun training to be service animals and she was about to bend over when a flash of fur caught her eye behind her.
And luckily so, because in the next moment the aspiring auror found her hands full of what seemed to be
a small black bear. No wait...was that a dog? Oh merlin that was a dog. A dog the size of a small horse, she was sure. It sat down on it's hindlegs in front of her and stared her in the...eye. It had a jagged scar down it's face, the left half, and was missing that eye. But the other met hers curiously, utterly unafraid of her...
"Oh...hey there..." Marilyn murmured, knealing down to rub between his ears.
"Hello there," a shopkeeper said, running up,
"Seems he likes you. He's a new foundlander, five years old, but familiars tend to reach more human length ages. His name is Jagger. Been here since he was a pup', trained to be a service dog to witches and wizards with PTSD. He's missing the eye, but it doesn't affect his abilities. His previous owner passed on and we got him back."
"Perfect. He's- good. I'll take him." the witch said absently, eyes still locked on the dog, on her familiar, who was stoicly staring, massive head tilted.
The witch also purchased a doggie bed, his food (a lot of it) and a leash with a harness (and a little red toy, because he seemed to like it and though she'd deny it forever she was a total goner already. They both were.)
"Alright, Jagger. Let's go home, eh?"
Over their time together Jagger seemed to learn whilst on the job, what Marilyn specifically needed. If he sensed a nightmare he turned on the lightswitch and licked her awake to reassure her of where she was. When she forgot to eat he'd lead her to the kitchen by softly howling there or nudging food towards her. Same with the days that she found herself unable to manage to get up out of bed, he'd let her cuddle with him and then gently lead her to the bathroom to get ready. He sniffed out different potions she had been taking and pulled them away from her, growling until she poured them down the sink.
In a way he was just like a nurse. Only much, much better.
Home 
