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I was dusting off my knees when another crisis erupted near the front door. A little boy, maybe six years old, was sobbing like his world had ended while his father knelt beside him with the patience of a saint.

“Buddy, the shot won't hurt that much. It's just a little pinch. I promise.”

“I don't want Buster to get a shot!” The boy's face was red and streaked with tears. “What if it hurts him?”

I looked at the puppy in question, a cute golden retriever with floppy ears. The dog was wagging his tail and trying to lick everyone within reach, completely oblivious to his owner's distress.

“Mind if I try?” I asked the father.

“Please. We've been at this since before we left the house.”

I crouched down next to the boy, who was clutching his puppy like a lifeline.

“What's your name?”

“Tyler.” He sniffled, not looking at me, his focus all on his puppy.

“That's a good name. Strong name. And this is Buster?”

Tyler nodded, burying his face in golden fur.

“Can I tell you a secret about shots, Tyler?”

He peered at me with red-rimmed eyes.

“I used to be in the Navy, and I had to get lots of shots to keep me healthy when I traveled to different countries. You know what I learned?”

“W-what?”

“The idea of the shot is always worse than the actual shot. It's like being afraid of monsters under the bed when they are really just dust bunnies. Do you know what I mean?”

Tyler looked up at his dad. “You showed me there weren’t any monsters.”

“I sure did.” His dad smiled down at him.

“Did the shots hurt you?” he asked me. He was serious as hell.

“A little. For about two seconds. But then I felt proud because I was taking care of my body, just like you're taking care of Buster.”

“Buster's brave,” Tyler said quietly.

“I can tell. Look at how calm he is. He trusts you to make good decisions for him.”

Tyler looked down at his puppy, who was now chewing on his shirt sleeve with obvious delight.

“Will you stay with us when he gets his shot?” the boy asked me.

I glanced at the father, who nodded gratefully.

“Absolutely. Your dad and I will both be right there with you and Buster.”

When it was their turn, Tyler walked into the exam room with his shoulders back and his chin up, carrying Buster like a woman would carry her newborn. The shot took less than five seconds, and Buster barely noticed because he was too busy trying to reach the treat Roxie was holding.

“See?” I ruffled Tyler's hair as we walked back to the waiting room. “Buster's already forgotten about it.”

“Thanks, man.” Tyler's dad shook my hand. “I've been dreading this all week.”

From the corner of my eye, I caught Ava and Roxie watching the entire interaction with expressions that ranged from amused to impressed, but Joy's smile was soft and warm. The woman made me feel like a hero.