The Story Part 1 Meeting Killer

To understand the issues, you must know the story...
I entered the Air Force in 1987 wanting to become a police officer. I had fallen off a horse the day prior to my exam at MEPS and when it came back that I could not become Security Police my recruiter had me join Open General so that I could still be able to qualify for SP after my next exam. I went in and got Law Enforcement. At the time, the Air Force separated the Security Police field into two sections, Law Enforcement and Security Specialist. Law Enforcement's duties were more like civilian police officer's, traffic tickets, police reports, break-ins, alarm activations also with the duties attributed to the military, sector checks and gates. Security Specialist's duties were protecting planes, alert areas and others.

During my Law Enforcement training at Lackland AFB, Texas, I was introduced to K-9 and saw a demonstration and was given the chance to apply to the school, I was accepted and became a K-9 Handler. I loved the idea of having a dog as a partner. The last week of my Law Enforcement training I was raped at a local hotel by a Marine who was in my flight for Law Enforcement. At the time I blamed myself. I thought because we had been making out that when I stated no, when I tried to push him away, when I struggled to get away, it did not matter, I had opened myself up for him to refuse. Those thoughts were solidified when during the last week of Law Enforcement training, we ran through scenarios, which one happened to be a rape case. The scene was set up that it was a dorm room, the girlfriend was raped by the solider (his room). I had been selected to play the "victim." From the scenario, it was taught that everyone was a "suspect" even the person who appeared to be a "victim." The other guy's comments during and after the scenario blamed the victim (me) for being in the room, for bad taste in guys, and everything else they could think of. I did not want to be associated with the "victim," to be so was weak and pitiful, that was not me, I was not a victim, I would not be one.

My career continued and I was sent to Dyess AFB, Texas for my duty station where I was assigned to my Military Working Dog (MWD), Killer B478. Killer was assigned to me because the kennel section thought he would at the least put me in the hospital. He was huge, over 100 pounds at times, and I was 115 pounds. When I was first introduced to Killer, he lunged at the kennel wire, right at the throat pulling on the wire. I thought for sure when I took him out for the first time he was going to eat me. I was scared but I wanted K-9. When I commanded Killer to sit he did nothing, stubborn.  I tried again, nothing, so I did what I had been taught, which was to pull up on the choke chain, but the leash went into the air at the same time. Killer dropped to the ground and shook, he been abused and it tore my heart out. I then in almost an asking voice told him to sit, when he did I took both hands and just rubbed his neck telling him how much of a good dog he was. At that point we were inseparable. When we stood, he would put his paw just in front of my boot saying "you'll have to get through me first."

Killer had been a bomb dog, because of aggressiveness on the aids he was decertified. Bomb and drug dogs were allowed treats that patrol dogs were not. These treats were food or toys. Killer had been worked with a ball and he loved to play with the ball. As a patrol dog he was not allowed that anymore, so I bought one and we played when we were alone. I thought it abusive for him to be denied something that gave him such pleasure just because he no longer worked bombs.