Biology Reference
In-Depth Information
life. Kathy did everything, including an experimental procedure that injects a dye to help the
immune system respond. She knew it was a long shot.
Danny Gooch's Kimbo died in March 2012, a year or so after his retirement. Danny's
daughter had the vet keep one of Kimbo's canine teeth. For Father's Day, she had it mounted
on a small gold clasp. Danny wears it on a chain he tucks down his T-shirt. His daughter got
a small heart tattoo:
KIMBO, BFF
. Kimbo was dark and fierce; his tooth is small and white.
Sean Kelly had four patrol dogs during his police K9 handling career. Nero was his most
recent, one of the happiest working dogs I'd ever met. He loved people, finding drugs and
guns, and biting. He had a deep, forceful bark and one of the smoothest on-and-off switches
I'd witnessed. He'd come off the bite sleeve and immediately sidle up to anyone watching,
stump tail wagging. Nero visited homes for developmentally disabled children where the only
coherent word Sean could understand, joyfully shouted over and over, was “Nero! Nero!”
Nero's ashes sit on Sean Kelly's mantel in North Carolina, in an eight-sided canister
marked with his paw print. The Malinois's print is also tattooed on Sean's big calf. Nero's
ashes aren't the only ones sitting on the Kelly family's mantel; Sean has the ashes of two of his
other patrol dogs there as well.
Losing Nero hit Sean the hardest. Nero had been a military working dog with the special
forces. He'd survived an IED that had killed his handler. The same bomb blew out Nero's
incisors and put a gaping hole in his chest. His tail was amputated because his hindquarters
were so damaged. He was a mess, but he was alive. Veterinarians patched his body together
and gave him titanium teeth. But Nero, who had been one of the top apprehension dogs in
his unit, who had helped save his handler before, as well as other unit members, could no
longer do his work. Post-traumatic stress disorder is too clinical a term: Nero and his world
had been blown apart.
“You can't get into the dog's head and say, 'It's okay, it's not going to happen again,'” Sean
said. Besides, that wouldn't have been the truth. So Nero returned to a military base in the
U.S. to help train green K9 handlers. However, he had a lot more working parts than non-
working parts. Turning him into the equivalent of a practice dog was wasting a great dog.
So in 2008, in a quietly arranged deal, Nero went to a police department in North Carolina.
Sean, a former K9 officer from New York City, fell in love with him. Nero was six years old.
He had drive, smarts, and a great nose. Although his tail and teeth were mangled, his head
and chest mostly white, he still had his perfect, pointy Malinois ears. Inevitably, Nero's work
in a small city in North Carolina, although not as dangerous as being with special forces in
Iraq, had its challenges. Nero ran into a yellow jackets' nest tracking a suspect.
“I don't want that ear to flop over,” Sean told the vet when he brought Nero in. Nero's
head was swollen with stings. “That's the only thing he's got going for him.” His pleas were
in vain.
