In Dog Years

Rebecca Phaser,

Emily Namson, Samuel Gray, Matt Evans, Morgan Evans

Sweetie (dog), Jace (dog), Chief (dog), Sarge (dog), Lieutte (dog), Cap (dog)

*first draft*

My first dog was a small black mutt named Sweetie. For many years, she was my best friend. When my brother, Jamie, was 11 and I was 8, we managed to convince our parents that getting a dog would teach us responsibility. In theory, it made sense, but I still think our mom ended up doing almost all of the work. Sweetie was a sweet dog, hence the name, and she put up with almost anything, therefore was a great dog with kids. Her previous owner was an elderly lady, Ms. Gennings, who had lived down the street. When Ms. Gennings moved into a retirement home, she couldn’t take Sweetie with her. We had Sweetie for almost 7 years before she passed away.

Because Jamie was heading off to university in New York, and I would hopefully be following in a couple of years, our parents decided against getting another pet. No matter how much I begged them, they said it was too much of a commitment and they needed a break. It was another 20 years before they got another dog, just in time for the grandkids to play with.

At the Shield Academy, we weren’t allowed pets. It made sense, as they were attempting to turn a bunch of young 20-somethings into trusted Shield agents and personal pets would take too much time and energy and woul likely be a distraction.

We did have \* dogs to train with. These were dogs who went through a rigorous training program just like ours. They were not ‘cute, cuddly dogs’, they had to be agents of their own, and we had to be able to trust them with our lives. Unfortunately, this also meant we weren’t supposed to get attached. Both dogs and people die.

I was not great at following rules. I can obey orders and was one of the best agents in training. It’s not bragging if it’s true. But I viewed rules more like suggestions, so it came to no surprise to anyone when they discovered I was harbouring an abandoned coyote pup in my dorm.

I had found him one night during a training run. He was huddled up next to a garbage bin, obviously abandoned by his mother and very hungry.

I had been planning only to keep him over night and bring him to the wildlife centre the next day after class. My roommate, Namson, freaked out when I had brought him in the previous evening, but after seeing how forlorn he looked, had agreed to let me stay the night.

I was getting a place ready for him to stay while I was in class and he bit me. And I fell in love.

I was smart enough to put leather gloves on before attempting to wash him, which turned out to be a good idea, as he was not a fan of the water. I found a box, filling it with a towel and some food. He scarfed down the food and huddled into the corner, still scared, but now cleaner and well-fed.

I had classes all day, but went back to check on him whenever I got th chance. He ate absolutely everything I gave to him. I was just getting ready to head over to the wild life centre when I received a call from my Supervising Officer Agent Gray. At the beginning of our second/third year, each AiT is paired with a senior agent who is responsible for our out of school training, or in other words, real life training. Besides having me shadow him on missions, Gray would have me complete near-impossible obstacle courses, do training interrogation, both sides, complete extra worksout, and honestly, whatever he felt like. He even paid someone to kidnap me at one point, but that’s a different story. Basically, when he calls, I have to drop everything and go.

The training exercise he had me do took all evening, after which I still had a required workout to complete. By the time I was done, it was too late to take the coyote pup to the shelter. Over the next couple days, everything I was about to take him over, something came up.

Namson had to go to HQ for 3 days to shadow her S.O., but made me promise that by the time she got back, he would be gone. I did not end up keeping that promise.

I would sneak meat for him from every meal, and take him outside every morning before my run. Namson hated lying to her superiors, but I, on the other hand, had no problem with it. I used it as an opportunity to practice the deception techniques we learned in class.

The longer I kept the pup, the less I wanted to give him up. On day, about 2 weeks after finding him, we had a training session with the \* dogs. Watching the dogs with their handlers made me realize that I could train my coyote like this. He was smaller than the dogs they usually used, which could be an advantage for stealth. The only problem, or at one of the problems, would be there was not way that the Academy would let some random coyote pup I found on the street be enrolled into their program. While he was still young enough, most of the dogs enrolled had been specifically bred for abilities such as strength, obedience, and stealth.

With a few well placed words, I persuaded Namson not to tell anyone I was harbouring a pet. Later, I even managed to get her to look after him while I was away on missions.

I befriended one of the head handlers and got him to tell me all about the training process for the \* dogs. I also got as many books from the library that I could without raising suspicion. I was determined that I could train my coyote to be my very own \* dog.

The only thing left was to give him a name, I couldn’t just call him “the coyote pup” forever. The only thing stopping me was that as soon as I gave him a name, I was committed and there was no more possibility of giving him away.

Jace became my second dog.

I managed to keep having Jace a secret in a school full of spies for 5 months. Either I was excellent at deception or everyone else was terrible at detection. I like to believe it was the first option, not  just because I’m arrogant, but because these were people I had to trust to have my back in hostile situations.

When Jace finally was discovered, I got in quite a bit of trouble. I still don’t know who it was that figured it out, but I’m guessing it was while I was taking him outside to train. Because Jace had completed the training so well, the dog handlers accepted him into the program. It helped that one of the dog handlers owed me a favour.

Jace and I both completed our classroom training the next year. Once I was out in te field, they paired me up with Jace, and we became unstoppable. Over the next four years, we went on almost every single mission together

THen came the fatal day. It was a mission doomed right from the start. It was a team comprised of 3 agents: Gray, Kim, and me. Somehow info of the mission got leaked, and they were expecting us, taking away our advantage of surprise. We quickly realized this when the warehouse was empty, but they ambushed us during our retreat. Agent Kim went down right away. Gray and Jace were across the hall from me, closer to the hall. I distracted the ambusher, letting Gray escape. I was hoping Jace would follow him, but to no avail. Both Jace and I stayed perfectly still, hoping that our attackers would think I was dead. That's when I heard the ticking of a bomb.

I ran, but I knew I wouldn’t make it out in time. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Jace skid to a halt. He turned on his heels, and sprinted back. I knew I had to get out of the building, but I so wanted to rescue my dear coyote. The explosion went off and I stumbled, but wasn’t even knocked off my feet. Jace had carried the bomb further into the building, giving me a chance. I survived yet another mission. Jace didn’t.

The little coyote pup I had saved one from the side of the road many years before ahd died saving my life.

It was at that point, I decide I would never put an innocent creature in harm’s way ever again. Jace never asked to be thrown into this sort of life. And he paid for  our mistakes.

The dog handlers tried many times to pair me with a new dog, but I refused. There weren’t many agents who could work as efficiently with a \* dog as I could. But every time I looked at the Shield branded collars each dog was wearing, I was reminded of the sacrifice made for my life. Caring for Jace had been a weakness, I couldn’t let myself be that dependent on someone ever again.

I had been known as the “Coyote Woman '', but over time, it got shortened to “The Coyote”. And I fully embraced that. I took time to tone the skills that I had been relying on Jace for. His hearing had always giving me a heads up on potential attackers. His sense of smell could indicate fire or poison gasses.

    It wasn’t until I married Matt that I even considered adopting another dog. While he had been in the Army, he had had a German Shepherd named Ace who was killed in action. Matt didn’t talk about Ace much, and the same was true about me and Jace.

The handler approached me again. I had been giving her the same answer for the past 5 years, and she had stopped asking quite as frequently. This time it wasn’t about an active \* dog to work with in the field, instead it was an older German Shepherd who had survived many years on active duty, but was past his prime and deserve a peaceful rest of his life. My immediate response was no. No more animals. No more dogs.

But after giving it some consideration, I realized it wouldn’t be the worst idea. Matt had mentioned that the house was lonely when I was away. We had both had dogs that we had loved in the past, and this one wouldn’t be replacing them. This would be a chance to give a dog a peaceful home and a rest, like Jace and Ace deserved, but never got the chance to have.

When I suggested it to Matt, he jumped at the idea. Chief joined our small family, and became my third dog.

It was nice to have a dog again. And nice to know that the chances of him dying to protect me were slim. He was an old dog, but very well trained. While Matt was unaware of Chief’s entire history and training process, he knew that Chief had been a \* dog and that a friend of a friend was looking for a home for him.

Having Chief also helped me feel less guilty about going on longer issions. I knew that Matt would be okay, and didn’t mind being alone, but I also knew that an empty house can feel big and it was easy to get lost in one’s mind.

The hardest part about having Chief was that we didn’t have a way to bring him anywhere. Both Matt and I had motorcycles, and fitting a German Shepherd on the back of one was as difficult as it sounds. There was a park not far from our house, and given how old he was, he didn’t need all that much exercise.

If we thought he was protective of us, it was nothing compared to how he acted after we adopted our daughter. Morgan was 2 when she came  to live wit us from Haiti. In Haiti, dogs are not pets, but rather scavenger dogs. Chief gave her space to get used to him, but kept a close eye on everyone who approached her. It didn’t take long for Morgan to warm up to him, and the two became inseparable for the next 5 years.

Chief lived way longer than we were expecting. It was as if he couldn’t bare to leave Morgan alone in this world, and he needed to hang on for her.

Losing him wasn’t as hard as with the others. He had lived a good life and saved and protected so many people over the course of his life.

Morgan was devastated when he died, and we didn’t rush into getting another dog.  About a year later, she approached us about adopting another dog. This time we decided to see if we could find a slightly younger god that could match the energy of our active daughter.

The handler was overjoyed when I came to her looking for a new dog. I wanted to stick with \* trained dogs, as I knew the training process they had been through and the signals to command them. Matt wanted a dog trained for protection. And Morgan just wanted a dog.

My next dog was Sarge. He was another German Shepherd who had completed his \* training, but once they had taken him out on actual missions, they found he focused all his attention on the protection of one person. Even when signaled otherwise, he would only watch out for the person of his choice. This was ideal for us, as Morgan was to be the sole object of his protection. The bond between Morgan and Sarge took a bit longer to form than with Chief, but it was no less strong.

Unlike with Chief, I could take Sarge with me on forest runs. On the days that Matt didn’t join me, it was nice to have company.

When Morgan was 12 years old, we decided she was old enough to head over to our family friend’s house on her own as long as she took Sarge with her. They were about a 15 minute walk away, and were willing to let Sarge stay in their backyard for the duration of the visit.

A call from the hospital is one of the most terrifying things that a parent can receive. When we got there, Morgan was lying in the hospital bed, surrounded by doctors and nurses, and Sarge was standing guard, ready to jump in at a moment’s notice, if he felt she wasn’t safe.

Both dog and girl were bleeding. The police said when they arrived, Morgan was lying on the ground, unconscious. There was a hooded man huddled against the wall, bleeding severely, and a knife lying a few feet away. And Sarge was positioned between the two snarling at him, snout dripping with blood.

When the police tried to approach Morgan, Sarge blocked their way. One cop, worrying that Sarge was a danger to the little girl, pulled a gun on him.

Shouting and yelling wouldn’t scare the dog away. They cautiously went around him, and secured the hooded man and the knife, Sarge cautiously let the police and the paramedics do their job. He refused to let the ambulance leave without him, and kept his eye on his dear little girl the entire time. I’m thankful to the paramedics that allowed Sarge to come along and realized that it was safer to break protocol and allow an animal in the ambulance than to try to separate them. I could easily imagine what would have happened otherwise - someone, cop or dog, would have gotten hurt.

When Morgan arrived at the hospital, the doctors were so busy, they didn't immediately notice the dog, who had been trained in stealth, until they were about to move her to the operating room. The paramedics quickly explained the situation, and Sarge never left her side.

I didn't know it was possible, but the bond between Sarge and Morgan strengthened even more.

He watched over her all through her school years, cuddling on the bed while doing homework, watching with full attention while she was practicing ballet and acting performances, laying at her feet when she attempted to cook. It’s not that he didn't spend time with Matt and me, but he was definity Morgan’s dog.

At 16, Morgan got her motorcycle license. She had ridden on the back of our bikes for years, but she wanted to ride on her own as soon as she got a chance. Sarge watched anxiously as Morgan started up the bike. He kept his distance, so not to distract her, but would be there in a minute if she needed him.

By the time Morgan was in her last year of high school, Sarge had slowed down quite a lot. He had developed arthritis and a dietary issue. The cost of keeping him wasn’t a problem, but he was in pain all the time. Pictures of Morgan in her prom dress and him lying at her feet were the last ones we ever got of him. He died in his sleep a couple days later.

With Morgan moving out to go to university, we didn’t think that it would be ideal to get another dog right away. Matt and I also realize that since we were childless and petless, it would be a good opportunity to do some long motorcycle trips. I had a lot of vacation days saved up, and Matt was ready for a break from his library job.

Over the next couple years, I travelled more than I had since the years immediately following the Academy.

When we settled down once again, we realized just how empty the house really was. There were no kids running around - our daughter and all of our nieces and nephews had grown up, there was no dog bustling from being coped up, needing to release the energy.

I went back to the \* training centre, it was a different head handler now, but he was still more than happy to set me up with another retiring dog.

Sweet quiet Lieutte was my fourth dog. SHe was content to lay at our feet while we read in the evening, but also loved running through the forest and chasing the arrogant squirrels in our backyard.

We had thought the other dogs had shed a lot, but it was nothing compared to Lieutte's long hair that ended up everywhere.

She was our first dog that really connected with Matt and I. This was largely because Morgan was no longer here in need of protection, but also because she needed love and rest, which we were more than willing to give to her. She was more traumatized that the other dogs from her experience in the field. Lieutte didn’t trust anyone coming into our house or approaching us. It was only through hand signals that she resisted snarling and even attacking.She was quiet, but I knew she was still deadly.

Even through all that, her maternal instincts still kicked in when Morgan brought over the German Shepherd pup, Roxy, that she had adopted.

Lieutte was only with us for just over 2 years.

As hard as it was to build a relationship with each of these dogs, only to have them pass away not long after, both Matt and I figured it was worth it. We both knew how to cope with death, and we both knew that after a life of pain and protection, that rest was necessary.

We continued to provide a home for retired \* dogs for the next many years.

Cap was next. He had lost one of his hind legs while on duty, but that didn’t slow him down much. Cap connected with Matt and the two of them would spend hours in the back playing catch. He was with us for 4 years,