Dusty

by Jane B. Mason

  Pedro raised an eyebrow. “I guess he really likes that pile!”

  Forrest crouched down next to Dusty and stroked the length of his body along the top of his back. “I misjudged you, lap rat,” he said. “You’re actually a rubble rat!”

  Dusty wagged his tail and licked Forrest’s hand. He loved having all eyes on him, especially when nobody was laughing.

  Roxanne nodded. “He navigated that danger zone with total ease.”

  Shelby squatted next to her brother to give her favorite pup some love. “Of course he did,” she said. “He’s like a miniature gymnast.” Dusty leaned into Shelby’s hand and wagged harder.

  “Hadn’t really thought about it before, but I can’t actually imagine a better dog for a destruction scenario. Dusty’s so light he won’t disturb the wreck and make things worse, and he’s small enough to fit through tight spaces where humans or even big dogs can’t go,” Roxanne said, thinking out loud. Then, coming out of her own thoughts, her eyes lowered to Dusty and she kind of snapped to attention. “He will have to learn to accommodate for his size on rescues,” she said. “Nontheless, it’s official. We’re definitely training this little guy to be a SAR disaster dog.”

  “Yesssssss!” Forrest said.

  “Woo-hoo!” Morgan added.

  Shelby lowered her face to Dusty’s and whispered her congratulations, her heart squeezing. “I guess that means he can’t be my lap dog anymore,” she said.

  Roxanne shook her head in agreement but understood Shelby’s sadness. Before she’d become a trainer, she’d adopted a stray who, though she didn’t know it at the time, was destined to become a SAR dog. Saying goodbye to their life together was bittersweet, to say the least. She reached down to touch Shelby’s shoulder.

  “No, I’m afraid he can’t. Little Dusty has big things to do.” She paused, tapping her foot on the floor. Thinking. “But I will need a training assistant. Shelby, since you were such a believer in Dusty’s skill, the job is yours if your parents agree.”

  Morgan’s head swiveled in Roxanne’s direction while frustration started to bubble up. She knew it wasn’t fair and tried to swallow it back. But until Dusty showed up, Shelby was one hundred percent over anything having anything to do with dogs!

  Shelby straightened, her face alight. Just as quickly, though, her expression dimmed as if a cloud had passed over it. More time with Dusty would undoubtedly mean more allergic reactions for Ryan. Plus, being involved with his training would be like watching him get closer to leaving the ranch, little by little, day by day. It might just be too much to take. Shelby crossed her legs on the floor and pulled Dusty into her lap. She put her face close to his fur. Her siblings, Roxanne, and Pedro watched, fully aware of the situation and what it meant for Shelby. She was as attached to Dusty as Juniper was to Twig!

  Shelby held her nose against the soft white fur on Dusty’s neck for several long moments, letting the smell of him act as a balm for her conflicted soul. Dusty nestled under her chin. Words weren’t necessary.

  Finally Shelby set Dusty on the hardwood floor and stood up. She shook her head. “I think I should stick with my job in the welcome center,” she said, sighing. “Maybe Morgan can take my place.”

  Forrest scowled at his oldest sister. Technically Morgan was too young to train with the dogs … he was supposed to be the lead “kid” assistant. But he knew better than to object—it wasn’t his decision, and he couldn’t deny that he did spend the last month teasing Dusty about his, um, shortcomings. He just didn’t see the tiny pup’s potential—he was too focused on his size. Lesson learned.

  Morgan blinked, a bit confused. Was her sister actually handing her a training job … one of the most unusual ones the Sterling Center had ever had? Her heart soared with excitement. This was basically a dream come true!

  “Yip!” Dusty spoke up, and it brought Morgan back to earth. This was only an idea, one her parents had to get behind … especially her mom.

  “I’ll talk to your parents, Morgan, and see what they say,” Roxanne said.

  Morgan felt hope rise again. Roxanne seemed fully on board, and her opinion generally carried a lot of weight. Maybe, just maybe, she would get to train the brilliant Dusty after all.

  Morgan stepped on a twig and nearly jumped out of her skin. She was sneaking through the dark with her headlamp set to its lowest setting and was, to be honest, a little spooked. The moonless sky hovered over her in pitch black, and she had to keep her headlamp on the creepiest setting … red. She’d only gone prowling around the ranch at night by herself once, and it hadn’t exactly ended well. At least this time it was sanctioned.

  Her mother had agreed to let Morgan help Roxanne train Dusty, and tonight was the first nighttime training. They’d been working with Dusty for over a month, and the Chihuahua was proving to be a very fast learner. They’d started with finds during the day, at first nearby and then with Morgan hiding farther and farther away, with more and more of a time delay. Continued barking during alerts was also a breeze for him, and his re-finds and returns to Roxanne went well, too. The latest joke around the Sterling dinner table was that for a dog with such a tiny head, he sure had a big brain!

  “His brain is probably in his ears!” Forrest had said with a laugh. And Morgan half agreed with him. It seemed there was nothing this dog couldn’t do.

  Snap! Another stick broke under her foot, and she silently hoped that Roxanne and Dusty were still inside so the dog wouldn’t hear it, though it wouldn’t surprise her if he could hear through walls!

  Since this was Dusty’s first try at night training, Roxanne had told Morgan that she could hide pretty much wherever she wanted on the ranch, but that it shouldn’t be too hidden. They wanted to make him work but also make her relatively visible since there wouldn’t be any light. Morgan crept past the second shade structure and kept going until she arrived at the newest addition to the ranch … the bus wreck. She’d only explored it once briefly, and that was during the day. She was surprised by how much larger and more menacing it seemed at night. Tipped on its side, it really did look like it had just crashed. Being careful not to step on the glass from the blown-out windows, she made her way around the far side to one of the upturned front wheels. She took a deep breath, settled in, and turned off her headlamp. The dark wait had begun.

  Back inside the canine pavilion, Roxanne strapped Dusty into his tiny vest. Morgan had searched online until she found the smallest vest available. Then Shelby had adapted it to Dusty’s little body with her sewing skills and the Sterling Center’s industrial sewing machine.

  “Nice fit,” Roxanne said with a smile as she checked to make sure the straps were snug. Dusty let out a bark but continued holding perfectly still. He liked his new wardrobe and wanted to make sure it was adequately admired!

  When they were both ready, Roxanne and Dusty stepped out of the canine pavilion and into the dark. Dusty wore a small light that Roxanne had secured to his collar. This was more for herself than for him—dogs could see better than humans in the dark, but it was difficult for humans to see them. After adjusting her own headlamp, Roxanne turned the setting to red so as not to distract the dog more than necessary.

  Night training could be tricky. Some handlers preferred to keep their dogs close when on a night search, while others let them range as if it were daylight. Since Roxanne had no way of knowing the preference of a dog’s future handler, she generally took a middle-of-the-road approach and kept the dog from ranging as far as he or she naturally would during the day. This almost always achieved a balance that worked.

  The moment they stepped outside, Roxanne noticed that Dusty seemed uncomfortable. His antenna tail drooped, and he didn’t carry himself in his usual proud stance. He stopped walking multiple times before they even got to their starting point at the training grounds. It wasn’t like him.

  “It’s okay, Dusty,” she told him. “It’s the same ranch, just without the daylight and hot sun.” Dusty eventually came along, but he didn�
��t demonstrate the excitement or enthusiasm for training she was used to seeing. Roxanne had to force herself not to worry along with him—she had to stay neutral, to send the message that everything was a-okay, perfectly normal. The last thing she wanted was to heighten his uneasiness.

  Dusty’s heart thrummed rapidly in his chest. There was no wind. There was no moon. The light attached to his collar bobbed around, casting spooky shadows. He wanted to go back to the doggy castle, to his cozy bed or the trailer or Shelby’s lap. He wondered why he was out at night.

  Roxanne led him to the usual starting place. She held out a piece of clothing for him to smell, but like always, he ignored it. He already knew the smell he was to follow—knew it by heart. It was Morgan’s smell.

  Dusty had found Morgan many times a day for many days. He usually started searching for her late in the day, when the sun was far across the sky, but sometimes he tracked her all day long. She was good at hiding, and he had to search in lots of places. But this was the first time Roxanne had asked him to find her at night. He had never been asked to work at night, and he didn’t like it. Night reminded him of hunger. Of fatigue. Of the family he lost.

  “Dusty.” Roxanne’s voice was stern. She wanted him to focus. Dusty stilled and looked up at her. She held his gaze for a long time. Then she said the word: “Find!”

  Dusty sniffed the air for Morgan and got her scent in his snout. He knew right away where she was, but he didn’t want to go there. He didn’t want to leave Roxanne’s side.

  “Dusty, find!” Roxanne repeated. She didn’t sound angry. She sounded patient, and very serious.

  Dusty started out but stopped with one paw in the air. Fear was getting the best of him. He circled back. He tried again, and circled back again. Out and back. Out and back. He looked up at Roxanne. His body felt tense and his tail drooped. He knew he wasn’t doing what he was supposed to do, but he couldn’t make his feet take him to his target. Not in the dark!

  “Find Morgan.” Roxanne tried a new tact. There was worry in her eyes.

  Morgan. Dusty heard the name and it gave him a tiny burst of courage. He left Roxanne’s side again, and this time he got his legs to keep going. He passed the shade shelter and the doggy castle. He made it past the rubble pile. His light was still bobbing around and his heart was still thrumming, but his legs moved him toward the smell, toward Morgan.

  Roxanne looked at her watch as she followed, closer than she knew she should. Already it had taken Dusty a full twenty-four minutes, more than four times his daytime rate, and he hadn’t made it to the target. Half that time was spent just trying to get him to start the search. By the time he zeroed in on Morgan’s hiding place next to the bus wreck, his tail was fully between his legs. During the final approach his body was so low to the ground it was scraping dirt. Roxanne was tempted to call him back, but full-on failing might only make things worse.

  “Yip!” Dusty barked tightly when he was next to Morgan. “Yip, yip, yip!”

  “That took forever!” Morgan said as soon as she spotted Roxanne.

  Her assistant looked nearly as spooked as Dusty and sounded relieved that the search was complete. “I was worried!” Morgan confessed.

  Roxanne looked down at the still-cowering Dusty, thinking that if she had a tail it would be between her legs as well. If Dusty was unable to work at night, there was no way he could earn his certification. There was no way around it. For the first time since she’d agreed to train him, Roxanne felt worried. “Me, too, Morgan,” she said. “Me, too.”

  The sun was beginning its descent in the hazy blue California sky when Luis Cortez turned the wheel of his Dodge pickup and pulled into the parking lot of the Sterling Center. He’d been driving for several hours and needed a bathroom break ASAP. San Antonio, Texas, was not exactly right next door, and his back and legs were reminding him that he was no longer a spring chicken … more like an aging rooster. Still, he was glad to be here. The more miles he’d put behind him, the more certain he was that taking this trip was the right decision.

  Retirement from the police force had not exactly gone the way Luis had imagined. He’d thought he’d take up fishing in addition to his regular poker games, and enjoy having time to read and hike. He planned to visit his brother more frequently in Mexico. He’d had no idea that the slow predictability of his days would gradually drive him bonkers. Who knew retired life would be one monotonous day after another? It wasn’t exactly that he missed working on the force. He’d put in his time and was ready to be finished with the grind and the toll of police work. As a cop you never knew what was coming around the corner, both literally and figuratively. Retirement was just, well, boring, and also a little bit lonely. Like it or not, the folks on the force had become a family to him, and he missed being around them every day. He missed the community. So when a friend suggested he get certified to work with a SAR dog and join a unit, he said he’d think about it. And the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Joining a search and rescue unit would (1) allow him to be part of something bigger than himself, (2) allow him to help out when needed, and (3) give him a constant companion to boot. Before he knew it he was researching possibilities and looking for places to train. The Sterling Center came highly recommended, so he’d contacted Pedro Sundal a month ago. After a phone interview and an application process, here he was.

  The young lady behind the desk in the welcome center recognized a desperate bladder and directed him to the restroom the moment he walked through the door. When he returned she was waiting with a handshake and a warm welcome.

  “You must be Luis Cortez,” she said. “I’m Shelby Sterling. We’ve been expecting you.” The girl couldn’t have been older than fifteen or sixteen, but her handshake was firm and she looked him right in the eye. Luis liked her on the spot.

  “I’ve just told Pedro Sundal that you’ve arrived. He should be here any—”

  The door swung open and Pedro appeared, smiling and with his right hand already extended. Luis noticed that his handshake was also firm. That made two for two.

  “Welcome to Sterling ranch” Pablo said. “Bienvenidos.”

  “Mucho gusto. Gracias.” The two men clapped each other on the back like they were old friends, Pedro reaching up because Luis was a big man. The two began speaking in easy Spanish and were still carrying on when Pablo led Luis out of the welcome center for the usual introductory tour. Shelby waved them off with a smile, wondering which dog Luis would be paired with. He seemed to have a personality as big as his physique.

  Luis followed Pedro all over the ranch, happy to have a chance to stretch his long legs. He could tell right away that the Sterling Center was a fantastic place. He was especially excited to see the shepherds and Labradors and golden retrievers and border collies in the canine pavilion, and wondered which of the big dogs he was going to be partnered with. He was itching to find out!

  At the end of the tour Pedro led Luis to the handlers’ lodge. “This will be your casa for the time being,” he said, showing him the kitchen, the common space, and his room. “The bathrooms are down the hall, and our classroom is at the end of that hallway.”

  “How much of the training did you say is in the classroom?” Luis asked, passing a hand over his bald head and feeling a bit deflated for the first time since he’d first arrived. Classroom work had never been his thing, and after nearly three decades on the force and five years with the canine unit, how much was there left to learn?

  “Two weeks,” Pablo replied, sensing Luis’s lack of excitement. “I think we do a good job breaking it up with reading, presentations, and videos. We really try to keep it interesting.”

  “Classwork? Interesting?” Luis’s voice was full of doubt. “Just to be clear, I’m no newbie. I’ve got a lot of experience with emergencies and trauma and dogs.”

  Pedro was careful to listen, to make sure Luis felt heard. It was as important to build trust with the human handlers as it was with the dogs—maybe even more so. “De
verdad, Luis,” Pedro said. “I believe you. I am sure some of the material will be review, but it’s always good to refresh your memory and expand knowledge. Disaster training is different from police work, and it’s often the things you don’t realize you’ve learned or that you thought wouldn’t matter that save the day in the field.”

  Luis felt a small wave of frustration but didn’t push. He’d signed up for the program and was determined to see it through, classroom work and all.

  The two weeks were a bit of a slog, but Luis liked the other handlers he was learning with, Holly and Jake. They were both smart and no-nonsense. And he had to admit he was learning a lot more than he thought he would. Who knew that dogs could be so sensitive to a handler’s mood, or that some dogs preferred a tug-of-war reward to liver treats? Every dog he’d ever met was a sucker for any kind of food … sort of like he was. Even though the information was sometimes fascinating, classroom learning was as much of a challenge as it was when he was in the police academy, and he found himself nodding off more than once. Still, it was worth pushing himself to concentrate. Every day he told himself he was one day closer to meeting his canine partner. Meeting his dog was the thing he was most excited about, by far, and it kept him going.

  Finally meet-and-greet day arrived. Luis awoke early and had too many cups of coffee even though he had more than enough energy to begin with. He had to make several trips to the bathroom. After a hearty breakfast that Holly and Jake seemed to linger over forever, it was time.

  “Are you ready?” Pedro asked when the dishes were done.

  “About to burst,” Luis replied honestly.

  Pedro led the handlers out onto a field with wooden bleachers at one end. In the near distance, three gorgeous dogs were lined up obediently with lead trainer Roxanne, proudly wearing their SAR vests. Luis could see a border collie, a golden retriever, and a sturdy black Lab. Luis grinned from ear to ear, feeling a wave of happy satisfaction. All three dogs looked fit to work with him, to get the job done, and he was about to be partnered with one of them!