Dr. Quincy, ME - My New Partner

I wonder what he is thinking, what conclusions he has already made about me based on the first impression I made in his world. I see fluff, big black eyes, a wagging tail, a fu-manchu beard, and potential. Lots of potential. He's a chunk and very very curious. He was the one of two candidate selections for our SAR team (out of a litter of six potentials) that without hesitation approached me and stayed with me when I called to him. He didn't seem afraid of anything and wandered independently from the huddle of his siblings whom wouldn't even make eye contact with me. He was energetic and focused on me, both of which are promising traits for a search and rescue dog. The energetic part may however become a challenge for the family.

I wondered what his nose was telling him about me. I smelled a dirty puppy in need of a bath. Did he smell the remnants of steak sliders and Michelob Ultra smeared by my greasy fingertips on the same sweatshirt I wore the night before at Twin Peaks? Or the butter toffee and chocolate combination on my breath from the Skor bar I ate on the way here? That smell he had better get used to. I wonder if he could differentiate between the Diva Wash that I used to wash the blanket that he curled up on in his travel carrier from the cheap detergent I washed my own perspiration tinged clothes in. I had read that dogs can smell some odors at as much as one part per trillion and that a dog has 125 million olfactory cells compared to the five million we have. Surely he had already established an opinion on the matter of his new partner.

While the other dogs in this litter were destined to be companion dogs, only this pup and his sister were destined for search and rescue work. I really want to do right by this guy and train him to his potential. I know that I am already at a disadvantage to his natural scenting ability and instincts and I pray that he is forgiving of all the mistakes I am certain to make. I remind myself of the mantra of search and rescue work: Trust Your Dog.

He whimpers for less than a minute as we pull away from all he has known for the last seven weeks ~ his mom, his dad, his siblings, and his caregivers. The carrier grows quiet as he sleeps the hour and a half ride home. I've decided to name him Quincy after a favorite childhood show about a forensic specialist who solved mysteries and brought closure to families who had lost loved ones. With hopes to go from Live Find training to Human Remains Detection (HRD), I can only hope Quincy can live up to his name.

It was only appropriate that the first people to meet Quincy were members of the team - my lead trainer who helped me choose the pick of the litter, her daughter who helped found LaSAR, and Rob one of my training partners who provided me with my first few nights of puppy kibble. As we concluded our pilgrimage and pulled into my driveway, Quincy woke and patiently waited to be removed from his carrier. Given an opportunity he explored the front yard and sniffed the children that were doing their best to contain their enthusiasm in an effort to not scare the puppy.

As I sit typing away, I have a stinky puppy on my lap sleeping heavily and another dog curled up under my chair. The house is calm and there is an underlying feeling of contentment in the air, and a big question looms as to what the future will bring...