Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: BLIND (06/03/21)
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TITLE: One of a Kind | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jack Taylor
06/05/21 -
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I’d learned to walk again with prosthetics and kept a firm hold on the training bar attached to my companion. At the lights on street corners, he knew when to stop and when to merge ahead. We sensed each other’s desires and moved as a single unit. We’d learned that the hard way when it was clear that one of us had to be the eyes for the other.
Moving from the base to the city after the trauma was a challenge for my partner. As a pup, he’d been through the course for explosive detection canines in Hartford, Connecticut. He’d been taught how to sniff along the seams of suitcases and under pallets in a base before the CIA heard about his special ability. Conflict zones in the Middle East are especially sensitive missions. His nose had been his point of confidence. Prayer had been mine.
Rex can get along without eyes better than I can. His nose is at least 40 times stronger than mine. While humans have six million olfactory receptor cells, Rex has at least 300 million. Thirty-five percent of his brain is wired for smell while only five percent of mine is. When a dog breathes in, the air travels into two separate channels. One for breathing and one for smelling.
When familiar odors like commercial dynamite, TNT, water gel, hydrogen peroxide, C4, Semtex, RDX or regular powders used for explosives are involved, Rex batted one hundred percent in his detection. Terrorists, however, are always learning how to disguise their deadly traps and sometimes its before we find out. He had been trained to sit when detecting the ‘stuff’ of bombs and I take responsibility for not detecting his hesitancy on that morning for what he was saying. I just didn’t see it coming.
The chaplain had asked me to share my faith story later in the day and I was processing it in my head as we ‘hurried’ through a minefield on our way to an abandoned building ahead. The troops behind us figured that an ambush was about to happen and pressed me to get them behind the safe concrete walls of the bombed-out school building in the middle of a field. I also wanted to call home to wish my five-year-old son a happy birthday. Despite my own training I felt rushed and distracted and Rex may have sensed that.
Like all good bomb dogs, Rex worked for love, he worked for food, he worked for praise and he enjoyed it as if it was all one big game. He was always alert but he was like a big puppy ready for the next adventure. When he came home blind after the explosion, he was jumpy and hypersensitive, just like I was. The bar I held signalled him when to move forward and when to halt. Almost every person assumed that he was the one with sight and that I was the blind one.
Rex reminds me of myself with my own Guide. In church, he lays at my feet, ears flicking, waiting for the next command. I honestly don’t see everything my Guide sees in the bustle of the world around me. His word prompts me when to move and when to sit still. Sometimes the trauma of the past makes me jumpy and I have to trust that he sees and knows enough for the both of us.
My own son is now a teen and we’ve picked up another pup to train for the forces. Rex is a mentor when we head to the center to keep up with the smells. Because he is determined to keep working, he fills me with a purpose. Despite his blindness, we are healing together. Our trust continues to grow as we stretch ourselves in our experiences. We see things many others miss.
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