Waiting in the Wings

I know mothers are supposed to love their children equally, but I also know in their heart of hearts they have their favorite.  I have four Labradors that I love dearly, but it is not hidden by any stretch of the imagination that Finn is my heart dog.  Sometimes I feel like he takes up one half of my heart.

There is little room for the others that want to show me in their uncomplaining way that they can love me as much as Finn does.  That they will work just as hard, just as long, and just as completely as he does.

When I got Cora as a little 9 week old pup from her breeder, she was second to Finn because he was still in the prime of his working career.  We still had our adventures in New Orleans after Rita and Katrina and the doomed trek through the jungles of Guyana in front of us.

Cora at 10 and 14 weeks

She and I worked steadily through her training.  Taking Finn out when the calls came, and leaving her at home.  We trained through her little idiosyncrasies that, only with consistent training, will I come to understand and become a partner to her.  

She easily breezed through her certification process, with only one hiccup:  at her first time for her above ground test, she ate one of the gauze pads a source was on.  I was mortified, since she never gave me a clue she’d do something like that.  The evaluator, on the other hand, was about to toss her cookies thinking that Cora was going need surgery from a blockage from the gauze.  However, that too, shall pass!  I was able to reassure the evaluator several days later that she didn’t need to worry any more.  

Everything else was perfect, so we went home to work on that little problem (I believer it is genetic, because her son had the same problem with his first test!)  She and I got some real life training before she finished her certification when, as an exercise, several cadaver dog handlers were called to help find the rest of a decomposed body in southside Virginia.  The police already had all they needed and we were offered the chance to get some real work.  Three weeks pregnant with her first litter she made her first find, a clavicle and part of a shoulder blade!

 We finished up her certification when she was about to turn three. 

But, I still took Finn first when we got called. Cora was always back up.  Around 2008, Finn was still recovering from several nasty shoulder injuries and wasn’t quite back up to speed.  So with Finn 8 years old, I finally had reality give me a hard slap. My yellow dog wasn’t indestructible.  Time to give those waiting patiently in the wings a chance to shine. 

And shine she did.  The first search I made the very difficult decision to run Cora first, was a publicity rodeo.  We were briefed that this was a search under the radar; that we should be able to get into and out of this small construction site quickly.  It was just me and another dog handler.  She was going to run her dog in the half constructed buildings and Cora and I were given the task of the mud pit outside of the half built frames.  It was a half acre site surrounded by chain link fencing, enormous earth moving equipment parked helter skelter, piles of construction debris (lordy, do I hate rebar…), mounds of other scary stuff and pools of water that could very easily cover deep pits. 

Me and the other handler park at the site, and I get out Cora to give her a potty break.  I get no more than three steps away from the truck and I’ve got a police officer stuck to my side like glue.  He informs me that “this isn’t a very nice neighborhood” and I really shouldn’t wander off without some assistance.  Hm, this is turning out a little more interesting than I thought. 

The two of us were standing on a large mound of dirt next to the construction entrance, when we both look up at the sound of “whoop, whoop, whoop”.  What should we see, not one but TWO news helicopters and then all the news vans start pulling up next to the chain link fence surrounding the site.  Not sure how that can be considered under the radar anymore:

Charlotte search

Quite the scenario for her first solo search!

The other handler and I look at each other, and we shrug.  She gets her dog out first and heads for the dwellings.  And I get Cora out, put her search collar on, shake the bell a little and “Go Find!”

Thirty seconds later, she plops her ass on the ground, WTH?  and I throw her the ball to fill her mouth so she can’t bark.

I don’t want any of the cameras pointed towards me until we figured out what just happened. Me and my walker turn to each other open mouthed. This was supposed to be a burial situation and she never made a move to dig.  Our minder is completely unfazed.  Cora’s a cadaver dog and she’s supposed to find dead people, so what’s the big deal?

Come to find out that a man had been murdered on that spot, knifed and bled out, 3 weeks prior.  We never found what we were looking for though. And the guy is still missing.

Falling down buildings, dark crawl spaces covered in cobwebs, junk, debris, back firing cars, heavy equipment, crowds now that is her element.  The more noisy and distracting the environment, the happier she is.

I trust Cora implicitly now.  And it started with that search in North Carolina.  She has slowly, steadily and consistently shown me that she is just as much a partner in this world of search and rescue as Finn.  I still miss having the yellow dog along with me, but I don’t feel like I am “missing” anything when Cora gets out of the truck.