“I thought you had three dogs for us to check out today, including Jojo,” Don said.
“Not after my dad briefed me about who you are and what’s going on with you folks. I was sorry to hear all that, but I knew Jojo was the right one for you. He’s the brightest, the biggest, and, I gotta say, the baddest.”
Ed smiled. Emma laughed.
As the trainer led them along the kennels on the right side of the barn, a Malinois with white whiskers and graying facial fur joined them. The close resemblance to a German shepherd was clear at a glance.
“Who’s he?” Emma asked. “He looks old.”
“Oh, he’s old,” Ed said. “He’s got the run of the place. He’s retired now.”
“From what?” Em asked.
Ed paused and looked at her. “The navy.”
“They have them on boats?”
Ed shook his head. “No, not boats. This guy was really famous once, but not too many people know his name.”
“That sounds like a riddle,” Emma said. “How could he be famous if not many people knew his name?”
“You could be known to most folks as ‘the dog’ on a secret mission that became international news.”
“Was he Cairo, the Malinois that went on the bin Laden raid?” Don asked.
“I could never say that,” Ed replied.
“Could never or would never?” Don asked.
“Could never,” Ed said. “But a right-thinking man or young woman might be okay coming to that conclusion.”
“Really?” Emma said. “My father was telling me about that dog just last night.” She looked closely at the old hound, sounding awed when she spoke again: “So he’s that hero dog?”
“He’s the real deal. I would not mislead you.”
“Is he safe here?” Emma asked.
“You bet. Nobody knows where he’s living out his life in peace. And look at him. He’s not the spry young guy he once was. But you guys don’t strike me as suicide bombers or paparazzi. And your mom knows how to keep secrets,” he said to Emma. “So I’m guessing you can, too. Promise?”
“Yes. Can I shake his hand?”
“Sure. The President did. So did the First Lady.”
Emma reached out, but the old dog lifted his paw and pushed it toward her for a high-five.
“He prefers that,” Ed said.
Emma high-fived him.
A beautiful young black and tan Malinois stood just inside the gate peering at Ed with a look of eager anticipation.
His master opened the gate and ordered Jojo to heel. He minded immediately, coming to Ed’s left side, keeping his eyes on him. The older dog wandered off.
Without looking down, Ed said, “Jojo, sit.”
He turned to Don and Emma. “Let’s walk away.”
Jojo stared intently at the departing trio.
Ed stopped after they’d moved about twenty feet. “You notice I didn’t say ‘stay.’ Just ‘sit.’ This is as basic as it gets, but that’s where we have to start. If you command him to sit, he’ll sit. Don’t confuse that with the stay command. If you order him to lie down, he’ll lie down. The same goes for all basic obedience commands. Forget ‘stay.’ That’s always his default mode.”
“Can I pet him too?” Emma asked. “Or is that off limits?”
“Absolutely you can pet him. Say, ‘Jojo, come.’”
Emma complied. The dog raced up and sat right in front of her.
“Go ahead and pet him,” Ed said.
Emma surprised Don by stroking Jojo’s head confidently, then using both hands to rub his scruff.
Ed ran Jojo, Emma, and Don through the rest of the dog’s basic obedience, which included the command “quiet.”
“What you need to know about the Malinois,” he added, “or a breed like the German shepherd and Doberman pinscher, is that most will naturally protect their families. What we do with our dogs destined for that kind of duty is evaluate them in this regard.”
“How do you do that?” Don asked.
“Oh, you’ll find out soon enough.”
That must have been the cue, because a large man in a protection suit stormed around the barn and ran toward them. Jojo raced toward him and bit a camouflaged protection sleeve — and hung on. The man stopped resisting.
“Stand down,” Ed commanded.
Jojo released his bite and stared at the man.
Ed put Jojo in the heel and went on. “We evaluated him for the first time when he was about nine months old. That was precisely how he reacted when one of my trainers launched himself at me. So we knew he had plenty of natural drive for protection. That’s when we started working on the stand-down command.”
Without warning the man in the protection suit ran toward them again. Jojo raced toward him. Ed shouted “Down.” Jojo dropped to all fours.
“That’s critical, too,” Ed explained. “You’ve got to be able to stop his attack.”
“He’d protect me like that?” Emma said.
“He’d give his life for you,” Ed replied. “Usually we want to work with you for at least two long sessions before turning over a family security dog. We don’t have that luxury with you. You need help as in yesterday, as I understand it from my father. That’s one of the reasons you’re getting Jojo. He’s got a great temperament. We’ve tested him at each stage of his training. You’ll also get a manual that you’re going to have to study. Your mom, too,” he said to Emma. “This is serious business. By the way,” he added to Emma, “he likes you.”
“I’ll bet he likes all the girls,” Em replied.
“Only the one’s he’s going to be protecting.”
“What about my friends, if we’re horsing around and I shout or something?”
“That’s an excellent question. He’ll be good with them. They can pet him, but you’ll notice he’s standoffish around them.”
In the next two hours, Ed ran them through all the advanced obedience, which included hand signals for each command. Then he put Jojo through his security-dog paces, including preventing a suspect from moving by barking aggressively at him from about three inches away, backing a suspect up, and chasing one down.
By mid-afternoon Don and Emma had worked with Jojo for several hours and fed him for the first time.
“You two and your wife will be the only ones he’ll take food from. We always worry about poisoning. He’s poison-proof. But you guys can’t let anyone else feed him. If someone tries to give him a treat, it won’t be an issue because he won’t take it. But to keep him poison-proof, you guys have to be the ones to feed him. If you have to leave him for a vacation or for any other reason, you leave him with us.”
“I’m guessing you have a lot of demand for dogs like him these days,” Don said.
“A lot of demand is right, but we’ve always sold every dog we’ve bred and trained, unless they were unfit for service. And we’re still very careful about who gets them.”
Don leaned over to pet Jojo. He could’ve sworn the dog was looking right through him. When he straightened Don saw the old dog wandering back up, as if to say good-bye.
“How old is he?” Don asked.
“Old as the hills. He’s got some health issues. He’s not going to be around much longer, I’m afraid.”
“That’s so sad,” Emma said. “Can I give him a hug?”
“Nope. Sorry,” Ed replied. “Good you asked, though. That old salt was trained for much harder stuff than hugging, so we don’t push our faces into theirs. Family security dogs are different. You can hug Jojo. But this old guy?” Ed shook his head. “He’s just not the cuddly type. You can high-five him good-bye.”
Emma and Don both did. Then she asked for a picture of her with the dogs. Ed nodded his approval and Don took it with his daughter’s phone. Ed snapped one of father, daughter, and Jojo.
It was now Don’s turn to take the lead, this time to Bethesda. Jojo shared the pickup cab with his new owners.