Reasons why K-9 search and rescue dogs are fantastic:
- They help find lost people.
- They can locate dead bodies.
- They have cool accessories.
- They’re professionals.
- They are exceptionally well trained.
- Their noses are the best in the business.
Once I got out into the sunshine and went back home with Miss Josie, I felt much better. She fed me and gave me a special treat. Then she told me about a surprise.
“I know you’re tired,” she said, “but my friend Patti is going to stop by with her dogs Clancy and Elliot. They are K-9 search and rescue dogs. Maybe you can learn something from them.”
The idea of their visit made me nervous. Clancy and Elliot were heroes. Miss Josie explained it to me as she cleaned up my poop in the backyard.
“They find lost people in the woods. Many of the people they track have had a medical emergency, or they are older people with memory issues who’ve wandered off. Clancy and Elliot take a whiff of an article of clothing belonging to the missing person, and they can find them—even if they’re miles away. They’re amazingly well-trained dogs.”
Crap. I was not an amazingly well-trained dog.
Curse my lack of discipline.
What could I do to impress dogs like Clancy and Elliot? I had no skills and no unique ability, but I did have one thing to set me apart from the average canine.
A cravat.
I grabbed my special occasion bow tie collar from the basket where Miss Josie stored it and carried it over to her. She smiled when she saw it. “You want to dress up for your new friends?” she asked, as she put it around my neck. “How cute.”
It was more than cute. As soon as I had the bow tie around my neck, I felt much better. I grabbed my Mr. Darcy toy and ran to the front of the bookshop to wait for the arrival of our guests. Miss Josie puttered about, chatting as she tidied up the shop.
“You know, it’s because of Patti you’re here in the first place. She recommended your breeder to Anne. Clancy is your uncle.”
I dropped the Mr. Darcy toy and stared at her. My long-lost uncle Clancy? The uncle I never knew existed? In spite of the obedience class debacle, and vomiting up lingerie, this was quickly turning into the best day of my entire life.
And although I wasn’t related to Elliot, I assumed he must be well-educated, well-read, and well-traveled. He probably knew how to waltz and enjoyed playing an occasional game of cards. I could tell by his name. Elliot was the name of a gentleman. What else could he possibly be?
It made me even more nervous, so nervous, in fact, I feared I might piddle on the floor. What a debacle. What if Elliot didn’t like me? What if Uncle Clancy thought of me as the black sheep (rather than the black lab) of the family?
I thought about retiring to my bed and hiding under a blanket, but Miss Josie grinned as she glanced out the window. “Look, Capone. There’s your uncle Clancy.” She pointed to a chocolate lab, with well-defined muscles and a powerful physique. “And the other dog is Elliot.”
Elliot was a yellow lab but mixed with something else, maybe a golden retriever. He was sleek and blond and beautiful. Together they were inspiring. How could I possibly live up to two such legends?
When Mistress Patti saw me sitting forlornly by the window, her face lit up. “Here he is,” she said, as she entered the bookstore and knelt beside me. “You’re gorgeous. What a great puppy. What a fantastic dog.”
My tail began to wag. Mistress Patti thought I was gorgeous, great, and fantastic? I felt the same way about her. I gave her a lick on the cheek and put my paws on her knee so I could reach more of her face. I even chewed on her auburn hair. I’d never been so happy. I thought I might cry.
“Hello, pup,” said Uncle Clancy, his eyes kind. He had grey around his snout, and I thought it made him look even more distinguished.
No one would ever describe Elliot as distinguished. “Hey, you,” he said, bumping me so hard he nearly knocked me over. “Let’s play chase. I’ll chase you, and you chase me. It’s fun. Go.”
After a rousing game of chase in the back garden, and a great deal of ritualistic butt sniffing, we took a break on the patio. Miss Josie and Mistress Patti sat by the wrought iron table and shared a bottle of wine.
The night was chilly but comfortable, and a giant harvest moon hung in the sky. As the ladies chatted, Uncle Clancy entertained us with stories about the good old days, and both he and Elliot talked about their work as rescue dogs.
“The key is to know what you’re looking for,” said Uncle Clancy. “All dogs have a good sniffer, but many don’t know how to use it properly. Our noses are ten thousand times more accurate than a human nose. It’s a fact, my boy.”
Note to self: I may have an actual skill.
I sat up a little straighter, thinking about Miss Josie and her missing books. “Can you use your nose to find other lost things as well, not only people?”
Uncle Clancy nodded. “Of course. But, it’s like I said, you have to know what you’re looking for, and you have to be able to recognize the scent when you finally come across it. That’s the hard part. Do you know what else is tough?”
“What?”
“Ignoring all the other smells getting in the way. You need a special kind of focus.”
Elliot jumped up and started chasing his tail. It made me wonder something. “Does, uh, Elliot have the kind of focus you mentioned?”
“He’s getting there,” said Uncle Clancy. “Life is a journey, Capone. Each step you take, each lesson you learn, leads you further down the path you’re supposed to be on. Elliot’s path is a little different.”
Elliot tripped but managed to catch his tail at last. He shot us a triumphant grin, losing his hold on his tail in the process. “Rats,” he said, and commenced chasing it again.
Uncle Clancy sighed. “He’s a goofball. It’s in his nature, and there is no fighting it. We are what we are, and we need to accept it, embrace it, and be the best we possibly can.”
My shoulders slumped. “But I’ll never be a rescue dog like you and Elliot. I’ll never be anything important. I’m a stupid little worthless puppy.”
I scratched at my bow tie. It chafed my neck, which seemed oddly symbolic to me, almost a metaphor for my life.
Uncle Clancy watched me closely. “Did you know Elliot was supposed to be a service dog, the kind that would help someone with disabilities? Guess what? He failed out. He didn’t have the right personality for it. He does have the right personality for search and rescue, though, which is how he ended up where he is today. You must have faith in yourself. You’re going to be a great dog someday.”
I put my head down on my paws. “How do you know, Uncle Clancy?”
“I’m old. I’ve seen a thing or two in my day, and I can always spot a good dog when I meet one. You are a good dog, Capone. You have excellent genes and an incredible nose. You could be anything, find anything, do anything. The choice is simply up to you.”
I tilted my head and looked at him. He seemed sincere, and it made my heart swell with pride. “Tell me more about finding things, Uncle Clancy. How do I start?”
He winked at me. “The same place you always do—at the beginning. If something is missing, you have to go where it was last located. It’s not rocket science. It’s olfactory science, and you have all the tools you need. Trust your nose. It won’t steer you wrong.”
Trust my nose. I closed my eyes and took a whiff of the night air, inhaling deeply. I smelled Miss Josie’s perfume, the treats in Mistress Patti’s pocket. I also caught the scent of Mr. Nate’s shop, the smells of coffee and cream and biscotti.
“Go deeper, Capone. Stretch out your senses,” said Uncle Clancy, his voice soft.
I inhaled again, smelling the wool from Mrs. Norris’s haberdashery, the pizzas baking in the oven at Mario’s down the street, and even the leaves in the park by the gazebo in the town square.
Opening my eyes, I stared at my uncle in surprise. “I smelled things I’ve never smelled before.”
“Good work, pup,” he said, letting out a yawn. “With practice, you’ll get better and better. In no time, your nose will be your greatest tool, and you’ll find what you seek. I promise.”
Elliot, who’d left us briefly to take a dump near the rose bushes, trotted back over to us. “Hey, have you guys seen my tail? I left it right here a minute ago, but now it’s disappeared.”
“Your tail,” said Uncle Clancy. “Where could it be? Have you seen Elliot’s tail, Capone?”
I pretended to consider his question. “I think I saw it over by the back wall.”
“Me, too,” said Uncle Clancy, giving me a wink.
“Thanks, guys,” said Elliot, as he scampered off.
Uncle Clancy sighed. “Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he’s a good dog. Now, tell me more about what you’re looking for, Capone, so I can help you sort out a way to find it.”