I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. For the first time, I felt hope.
On the sixth day, I walked into the management office with everything: the petition, testimonials, photos of Tank playing with kids, even a note from Leila’s therapist explaining how he’d helped her anxiety and trauma.
“I understand your situation,” she said finally, “but rules are rules.”
I met her gaze. “Rules are meant to protect people. Tank is protecting someone—my daughter. He’s saving her.”
Her face softened. “What happens if we get another complaint?”
“Then you call me,” I said. “And I’ll handle it.”
She paused, then sighed. “Fine. You’ve got thirty days to prove this works. After that, we’ll review.”Continue reading…
