petting. “He sure will be. He’s wonderful. Petting him feels good.”
“It feels good to him, too. But you’ll have to work him every day so he doesn’t turn couch potato on you.”
Astonishment filled her. “Couch potato? Him?”
“Well, I don’t mean he’s going to get lazy. But he needs to remain sharp, so every day you’re going to have to work with him for at least a half hour. Can you do that?”
“Sure. It’ll be fun for both of us.”
He smiled. “Good. You’ll be a great handler for him. He likes the work, you know. For him it’s a fun game. Now let’s get busy on the attack training. I’m going to put on my padded suit, and you’re going to make him attack me.”
She felt perplexed. “But he knows you and likes you! Why would he attack you?”
“Because it doesn’t matter that he knows me. Protecting you is all that’s going to matter. When you tell him to attack, he’ll attack. It’s not his job to make decisions like that, but to take care of you. You’ll see.”
She still hesitated, concerned. “Does he know how to attack?”
“We’ve been practicing. Now it’s time to get serious.”
He rose in a single easy movement and went down the run to a shed at the end, disappearing inside. When he returned he wore thick padding on both arms.
Even so, that didn’t seem like a whole lot of padding. Flash recognized it immediately and rose to his feet, tail wagging. Dory stood, too.
“He’s been practicing on a dummy,” Cadell said. “Now he gets the real thing.”
They left the run and went out to a paddock, where the two ostriches stared at them over a fence. “Tell him what to do right now,” Cadell said mildly.
Dory hesitated, then remembered. “Flash, heel.”
The dog immediately came to stand alertly beside her. In all her life, she was sure she had never seen such an incredibly well-behaved dog. He was now still, watchful and right where she wanted him.
“Now you’re not going to tell him to attack,” Cadell said. “For that I don’t like to use such an obvious word, one that he could hear in ordinary speech. It’s not only tone that matters. They can pick words right out of a conversation. Now, some dog trainers don’t worry about that, but I do. I don’t want officers getting in trouble because someone is claiming to have been attacked and the dog reacts somehow.”
She nodded, her heart beating nervously. “I understand.” But she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to command this dog to attack.
“The word I use is fuss. Long u sound. Like foos.”
Her sense of humor poked its head up. “I hope I remember that when I need it.”
“Well...” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “We’ll practice until it becomes natural. But since you’re going to start with a very simple command every night when you go to bed, or when you take him out, he’ll know what to do even if he doesn’t hear the word.”
“Meaning?” She began to feel confused.
“If you tell him to guard, he will. And he won’t always need an attack command to protect you. He’s capable of evaluating a threat that gets too close. This is for when something is a little farther away and he might not see it as a threat to you immediately.”
“Ah, okay.” Now she was beginning to understand.
He patted her shoulder with his padded mitt. “It’s about to all come together. I’m going to walk away about twenty feet. You’re going to give the guard command. Then I’m going to turn around and point a toy gun at you. Pay attention to what happens as I approach you.”
Okay, she thought. She could do this. “Flash, guard,” she said. She felt the dog shift a little beside her but didn’t look down at him.
About twenty paces away, Cadell turned around. He held a gun in right hand, but it was pointed down. Flash didn’t stir a muscle. Step by step Cadell approached. At ten feet he raised the gun and pointed it at her. Flash didn’t need another command. He took off like a shot and bit into the padding on Cadell’s right forearm.
“My God,” Dory whispered. She’d had no idea. The dog clung to that threatening arm and wouldn’t let go even as Cadell tried to shake him off and whirled in circles, lifting Flash’s feet from the ground.
“Stop him,” Cadell finally said.
“Flash, release,” Dory ordered, remembering the command he had taught her to make the dog drop his toy. Flash obeyed immediately, looking at her. “Heel.”
He trotted over to her, looking quite pleased with himself.
“Now the reward,” Cadell said.
Which was the yellow tennis ball. She told him he was a good boy as she gave him the ball. Flash chewed on it a few times, then dropped it at her feet, begging for her to throw it, so she did. He raced happily after it.
“It’s just that simple,” Cadell said, watching her as much as he watched the dog. “A few more steps, a couple of days of practice and he’ll do anything for you.”
She squatted, encouraging Flash to come back to her. “How do I let him know it’s okay not to be on guard?”
“Throw his ball. That means playtime.”
So simple, she thought. And so amazingly complex all at the same time. Beautiful, too, she thought as she hugged the Malinois. The dog already made her feel safer. What’s more, he made her feel as if she weren’t quite as alone.
* * *
AFTER DORY LEFT with Betty, Cadell spent the afternoon working with two more officers who were training to become handlers. What they needed was more complex than what Dory needed, and the training was going to take a little longer. Simple fact was, while a civilian could get in some trouble for a misbehaving dog, a cop could have his career ruined. Or the department could be sued. Plus, these guys went into a wider variety of situations, situations that required tracking, rescuing and so on. Dory wouldn’t need all those skills.
When he finished that up, he ate a quick dinner, then headed into the sheriff’s office to do his shortened shift. On training days, he worked as a deputy for no more than four hours.
Before he left, he took time to feed the ostriches their very expensive feed and open up their pen so they had more room for roaming. Neither of them appeared appreciative.
He and his dog Dasher, also a Malinois, drove into town in his official vehicle and parked near the office. Inside, they found the place quietly humming. Another placid night in Conard County, evidently. He was surprised sometimes how much he enjoyed the relief from the much higher activity level of Seattle. Must be getting old, he thought with an inward smile. Yeah, like thirty-five was ancient.
Dasher settled beside his desk, tucked his nose between his paws and just watched. Since nothing seemed to be happening, he used the computer on his desk
