by Amy Shojai
Purpose renewed but energy flagging, Shadow stumbled through the jumble of house parts and tree limbs to reach the fence that enclosed the perimeter of the back garden. Each morning, he and September patrolled the fence line, making sure no danger lurked. He’d been gone for a long time and needed to do his job. Maybe once she knew everything was safe, September would come home, too. He’d found his way home and now his job was to guard the house until she returned.
Shadow managed to squeeze through a twisted break in the fence. He ranged up and down the metal barrier, frustrated when it disappeared into frozen water on each side, so he couldn’t get closer. Water dragged good-dogs away from his person. He howled in frustration. The cold bit deep into Shadow’s bruised paws, and he grew more and more exhausted.
He was alone. He howled his grief, the yodel trailing off in the night air. When exhaustion and fever overtook him, he curled up in a dry spot and slept. Shadow welcomed shivery dreams where September’s voice filled his heart with hope.
He awakened with a start and struggled to sit up when a man’s voice roused him from fevered visions. Guard the house, he needed to protect their home. Another voice, oh joy! September’s low voice joined the man’s. Maybe not a dream after all?
Shadow tried to yelp, to bark, to announce his presence. His voice failed. Shivers made it hard to move. September was here! He couldn’t get to her! He whined.
“Did you hear that?”
It was her! Shadow again pushed against the sodden earth, but his legs refused to lift him. Breathing hurt, but he sucked in a great lungful and pushed out all the hurt, longing, and love in a gasping hoarse howl. I am here, here HERE!
September’s familiar footfalls stumbled near, falling and getting up, racing closer and closer. He whimpered and cried, a gurgling strangled plea. She’d come for him, she hadn’t left him behind, September had returned!
“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Music to his ears, even as her sobs matched Shadow’s own.
He levered himself upright and braced himself against the fence to keep from falling. Tail shouted his joy. And then she was there, only the fence between them. Shadow tried to force his way through to reach her, and warbled his happiness with garbled, heart-breaking gasps.
September dropped to her knees as close as she could get. “Oh baby-dog, my sweet boy.” She pushed her arms through the fence, trying to hold him, to touch him, but the bars kept them apart. Her hand came back red with blood. “He’s hurt.”
Combs grabbed her waist and lifted her, and she struggled. “No, no, no I can’t leave him; we have to get him help.” And he set her down on the right side of the fence.
Then her arms were around Shadow. He burrowed his head into her neck, licking her face, tail bruising them both. Bliss.
And Combs had leaped the fence. “I’m not leaving either of you.” His strong arms encircled them both. “You’re my family. This is where we begin.”
PART 2 TRAINED to SERVE
(August)
Chapter 29
Lia Corazon squinted against the bright August sun as she watched Karma fidget near the gate. She slapped at mosquitoes that haloed her frizzy goldenrod hair, but Karma didn’t seem bothered. She grinned, knowing the bleib (stay) cue posed one of the greatest challenges for the ten-month-old Rottweiler. Karma’s stubby tail stood erect, and she already had begun distance scenting in short, staccato bursts. “No cheating, baby-girl. Bleib!”
They’d trained each day for the past six months, and the young dog enjoyed every minute. Lia not so much. To Karma everything was fun and games, treats and sniffs. But Grandfather’s deadline loomed, and how they performed in three days for the test—Lia’s training, and Karma’s skill—would determine their future.
Lia’s broken wrist and ribs had impeded training for the first few weeks and she still had intermittent tinnitus from the concussion, but she couldn’t let them destroy her dream. That gave her no choice but to accept Grandfather’s challenge: train a dog to police K9 standards in six months and he’d fund her dream. Fail, and come home to work for him.
K9 service dogs trained forever. She’d learned that Rotties weren’t a common choice for the police, but their versatility, strength, drive and devotion made them adaptable and a good match for the right partner. The athletic breed, descended from ancient Roman cattle dogs interbred with Swiss and German mastiffs, could hunt bear or play with the kids, guard cattle and then share a beloved human’s pillow. Only the elite with the best temperament and physique were suited for the rigors of protection, military or police work. Karma was one in a million, at least in Lia’s eyes.
So she trained with Karma every day despite the last-minute pet-sitting arrangement that had Lia trekking several times a day to each client’s household instead of boarding the pets. That left her exhausted, and the funds still weren’t enough.
“Good girl, Karma. We’ll start the game soon.”
Karma trembled with excitement and whined under her breath at the “game” word but didn’t break her seated position. Extra challenges kept Karma engaged and delaying the scent game made her eager to start. Nothing killed training faster than boredom.
Lia’s success rested with Karma. She’d heard September had conducted temperament evaluation on Karma’s littermates and dam, in the hopes they might be rehomed, but Lia did not know what had become of them.
In the nearby corral, Fury kicked up his heels and cantered around the perimeter, dragging a long rein on the ground. He’d pulled the line free, telling her in no uncertain terms he wanted attention and needed a good run. “We’ve already been out once today.” She’d enjoyed a slow amble with Fury early this morning to set up a practice test for Karma in a nearby field. They’d run that practice track later today. For now, though, she’d tied Fury nearby to offer more distractions for the pup to overcome. But not like this.
Lia smiled. Abe used to say, “Use every situation to train. Dogs learn constantly.” And if you didn’t guide the smart ones, they’d learn to do stuff you didn’t want them to do.
Abe had trained his Bouvier, Thor, to herd cattle, and Lia inherited the dog along with Abe’s kennel. Thor lived only a few weeks after they moved to the Corazon homestead, but they were happy days for the old guy. Thor switched “on” around livestock and the years fell away. He loved to round up and bring in the horses. Grandfather liked the dog so much, he asked Lia to look into getting a ranch dog for the stables. The place was already thick with cats.
When Thor brought in the horses, Karma had watched with great interest. Lia hadn’t pursued the dog’s herding skill. Maybe she should refresh the notion.
“Karma, come.” Karma’s pent up excitement exploded into motion. Her rear paws left deep gouges in the loose dirt beside the arena gate. She skidded into a sit in front of Lia, panting and whining with excitement for the next cue.
Lia kicked herself; she’d not used the German command employed by most police K9 teams. She needed to be consistent with cues but forgot herself more often than not. She hoped trainer error wouldn’t penalize Karma’s performance. Maybe they’d get points if Karma was bilingual.
The precocious pup had mastered the basics by nine weeks: sit, down, wait, come. Lia had transitioned the dog to German after the tornado, and now Karma understood and responded to three forms of verbal cues: English, German, and hand signals. Abe used whistles to train herding, and Karma was reliable with the whistle recall too. Today, they’d practice yet another type of cue, until it became automatic.
Lia smiled at Karma’s eagerness and ability. Most dogs didn’t have enough concentration for effective police training before at least a year old. The thought reminded her of Shadow. Lia hoped he’d found his way home.
To be this focused at nine months gave her hope. Given the time constraints, Lia concentrated on patrol training. That included obedience that every dog should know, plus agility—police dogs needed to be athletes—and now tracking. Further scent discrimination skills would be imp
ortant for evidence searches, including the ability to match a potential suspect to a weapon or other object used in a crime. Some police service dogs were adept at finding lost people like children or Alzheimer’s victims, or specialized in narcotics or explosives detection. They trained dual-purpose K9 officers, the “super dogs,” to excel at everything.
She couldn’t yet tell Karma’s best fit. Her youthful energy and innovative problem solving kept Lia smiling though.
Every once in a while, Lia got just a glimpse of the whispery mind-tickle insight she’d first experienced with Shadow. Maybe, just maybe, the special talent resided within her rather than the koa warrior dog, but she hadn’t a clue how to develop it further. Or if she should. Abe used to say that trainers got the dogs they needed, not the ones they wanted. Special gifts must be the same, since she’d learned as much or more from Karma as she had taught the dog.
It helped that Karma lived for treats, but the pup responded even better to Lia’s approval. Smart dogs challenged the best trainers because they often “knew better,” but those also were ideal dogs for service fields. Sweet and biddable dogs obeyed without question. Dogs like Karma needed to know when to use their own judgment. Selective disobedience could save a human partner’s life or get the job done.
But first, a new challenge. Lia couldn’t wait to see what the dog would do—Karma always had her own way of doing things. “Karma, bring!” She waved at Fury.
Chapter 30
Karma sprang to her feet, leaped forward and then slowed her gait as she neared the corral where the big animal paced. She had great respect for the creature. Horses were much bigger and faster than dogs. Even faster than Karma. She’d never met another creature that ran so fast.
She knew immediately what Lia wanted. It was a good-dog’s job to please Lia. She wondered, though, why Lia didn’t just tell the horse to come, the way she did Karma. Maybe Fury didn’t know the come word. Karma knew lots of words, though, and bring was a favorite. It meant the same thing as fetch.
Karma reached the fence and squeezed under the lowest rung. She had to duck since she’d gotten so big and watched when Lia trotted to the gate and cracked it open to squeeze through.
Fury wore a heavy leather pad on his back, and long flappy things bounced on each side. He tossed his head, dancing and prancing around the area when he saw Karma. A second long line fell from the harness on his head, dragging in the loose soil.
Karma knew about harnesses. She wore a harness and special collar during scent tracking games, and Lia attached a long tether to her shoulders. Karma noticed a coiled rope hung on the fence rail right next to Lia’s perch. Maybe after she fetched Fury, Lia would play the tracking game. Wouldn’t that be fine!
Now, though, Karma had a job to do. She trotted out to the giant animal, keeping her ears tight to her head and out of horse teeth range. The big feet had hard sharp edges that could hurt a dog, too. Karma knew Fury wouldn’t run over her, not on purpose, but didn’t want to give him a chance. She’d watched old Thor move horses the same way dogs moved each other, by claiming space. Every creature, from dogs to horses and even the skittery cat creatures Karma liked to chase from the barn, all had personal space surrounding them they needed to protect. Move into that private bubble, and dogs adjusted away from the encroachment.
Horse space, though, was different than dog space, or cat space. Or people space. Karma wanted to puzzle more about it. Not now, though. Doing her job meant fetching Fury to Lia.
Karma stepped into the pathway Fury trod. She stood steady, staring at the creature and waiting for the horse to finish his circuit. As the animal approached, Karma play-bowed, the stub of her tail wiggling while her front paws danced in the dust.
Fury slowed, stopped and whirled, snorting and rolling his eyes. The reins flapped free.
Following at a lope, Karma pressed closer to the horse, not physically touching him but encroaching on personal space. As expected, Fury reacted, shying away and turning the other direction. Panting with happiness, Karma enjoyed the game, making the animal go fast or change direction. She got so caught up in the fun she forgot the original fetch request.
“Karma, bring! Quit playing with him!” Lia’s reminder brought her up short.
She loved to make Fury move back and forth. Karma’s forehead creased with concentration, scoping out what position to press so the horse would go to Lia. The reins flapped again in the dirt, and her forehead smoothed with sudden understanding.
Why waste time and energy running circles around a silly horse that didn’t even understand the word come? Karma waited for the moving horse to lap the corral again, and this time when he came close, she grabbed the rein.
What fun! Karma congratulated herself when her grip caused Fury to stop and whirl. She backed way, turning the fetch-cue into a tug-game. The horse stretched out his neck, blew out loud breath, and only then gave way and followed the dog.
Karma led the horse to where Lia sat perched on the top rail of the fence, mouth open. Karma sat, signaling completion of her task as she held the rein in her mouth and waited for the release word.
Two riders cantered up to the fence on their own mounts. Lia wobbled, and grabbed for balance, but Karma never dropped the rein, even when Fury reared back and dragged her a couple of feet. She just dug in her paws.
“What the hell you doing there, Lia-girl? And what’s that dog doing with Fury?”
Chapter 31
“Grandfather!” Lia jumped off her perch, and hurried to collect the rein from the dog. “Karma, sit. Stay. I mean, bleib.” Dammit, Grandfather always left her flustered. “Back early from your ride? Where’s Grammy?” She breathed again with pride when Karma complied. She raised questioning eyebrows at the stranger riding Grammy’s old chestnut. He white-knuckled the saddle horn to keep from sliding off.
“Cornelia’s dealing with last minute details for the big shindig tonight.” The stately man with snow-white hair sat his champion bay stallion with the pride of a Spanish conquistador.
Lia hunched her shoulders. She’d forgotten about the party.
“Hey Dub, could I get a hand here?” The little man began to tilt, and she saw his feet weren’t even in the stirrups. He managed to right himself before he fell.
“Oh, this is Mr. Kanoa, a possible future business associate. He’s visiting from out of state. Antonio, that’s my granddaughter, Lia. And her police-dog-in-training.” Grandfather removed his straw cowboy hat to mop his brow before replacing it.
Kanoa lifted a hand to wave, and then dropped it to clutch the saddle horn again. Lia hid a smile.
Grandfather swung off his big bay, and held the mare’s head while Kanoa scrambled to dismount. But he directed his words to Lia. “Tell me again why your dog’s messing with Fury? That can’t be part of police dog training, and I won’t abide a dog chasing livestock for fun.”
“No, she wouldn’t do that. Karma just, well, she improvised when I asked her to fetch the horse.” When she heard her name, Karma closed her panting mouth, and tipped her head as she looked from the big man to Lia and back again. Lia fidgeted, playing with her bracelet out of habit. “We’ll get back to training now. Mr. Kanoa, nice to meet you.”
“Pleasure, Ms. Corazon.” He retrieved a shiny cigarette case before noticing Grandfather’s scowl and slipped it back into a pocket without lighting up. “Right, I’ll meet you back at the house.” He scurried away, shiny shoes kicking up dust in his wake.
Grandfather stared after. “Funny little guy. Friend of a friend asked me to host him while he’s in town. Kanoa is in the import-export business and has clients interested in horses.” He smiled, and his face lit up. “Not that he’d recognize a quality horse if it bit him.” When he smiled, Lia could see a shadow of the dashing brash immigrant—her great-great-something-grandfather—who, with his Spanish bride, started an equine empire over a hundred years ago.
“Want me to take care of them? So you can have some quality time with Mr. Kanoa?” She dared
to inject a teasing lilt, and grinned at his barking laugh.
“Thanks, Lia-girl. But you got work to do yourself.” He held out his hand for Fury’s rein, and then led all three horses to the nearby barn. She knew he enjoyed the after-care of brushing, cleaning hooves and simply communing with the animals as much as riding them.
She loved horses, too. Just not as much as dogs. “Good bleib, Karma! Ready to get back to work?” Lia waited a moment, delighted when the dog didn’t make a move from her stay-position. Karma wriggled in place but waited for the release word. She’d chosen something unique, so Karma wouldn’t be miscued by an inadvertent uttering of something like okay used so much in everyday language. So she used thank you, but in Hawaiian, a nod to her own roots. “Karma, mahalo!”
The dog’s powerful haunches launched her into the air, and Lia laughed at Karma’s antics. The word fit Karma’s personality. The big dog ran a full circuit of the corral before returning to Lia’s side, and then surprised her by leaping up and grabbing the coil of rope suspended from the gate. She tugged, loosened one end, and continued unraveling the line on her way back toward the practice paddock.
Karma often used the ploy to get her way. She wanted to move on from the confinement and structure of the paddock drills, and work on the longline, tracking. Lia smiled, delighted by Karma’s eagerness. But the drills were still important.
During a tracking exercise, Karma knew to lie down, or “platz,” to indicate she’d found the item. Lia needed the action to be automatic and triggered by scent.