I’m Going To Be A Hero, Retire Upstate, and Have a Little Girl Feed Me Treats

Officer Bucky Baker paces in front of the cages, unable to decide.

A medium-sized German Shepherd barks at him, whimpering.

The dog sizes the human up. The human is painfully thin, with a wide-eyed stare, a receding hairline, and he scratches the side of his head a lot, indicating a lack of decision-making and self-esteem.

But he needs a home. He’s been at the shelter for six months, and he knows that if he’s not picked soon, he could go to the room of permanent sleep.

So, he sells his compassionate side by quietly barking and whimpering again.

“That one.”

Bucky takes the dog to the Rowayton police station. A dozen passing officers pat him on the head, stroking his fur.

“So far, so good,” the dog says to himself. “Busy place. I wonder what it is they do here?”

An officer guides a Labrador Retriever on a leash into the lobby, placing him next to the dog.

“Sit, Freud. I need to talk to the Desk Sergeant before we head out.”

Freud obediently complies, glancing at the German Shepard.

“So, what do you do?” the Shepherd asks.

“I’m a victim assistance dog.”

“What’s that?”

“I provide comfort and emotional support to humans navigating difficult or traumatic situations.”

“How? Do you sit them on a couch, listen to their problems, and pretend to take notes?”

“No. They pet me and talk to me,” Freud replies.

“How did you rate such a cushy job?”

“I guess I’m just lovable,” Freud replies, swishing his tail. “So, who’s your partner?”

“The man standing next to yours.”

Freud laughs. “Bucky Baker? He’s the precinct loser, a real sad sack, a bad luck guy. Whenever an investigation goes fugazi, you can bet Bucky was involved.”

“All I want to do is be a hero, retire upstate, and have some little girl feed me treats for the rest of my life.”

“Good luck chasing that dream,” Freud barks as his officer pulls him away.

Bucky places a collar around his neck.

“Welcome aboard, Officer Kay.”

The Shepherd cocks his head. “What the…”

“Officer Kay,” Bucky repeats. “You know, like K-9.”

“Woof… You could have at least given me a male name. Kay… It’s embarrassing. If this is an example of Bucky’s creativity, we’re in trouble.”

Bucky attaches a leash to Kay’s collar. He reluctantly follows the officer, who drones, “This is an exciting job, Kay. One of the best you can have in Connecticut. No day is going to be the same. We could get called out to look for missing people, be involved in robberies, search for stolen vehicles, help prevent suicides, or even search for hikers lost in the mountains.”

The pair pauses in front of a statue of an officer and a dog.

“That could be us, someday, Kay. That’s Sgt. Nick Knight and his Akita Inu Diesel. Diesel was one of the highest decorated K-9s in the force. In his six-year career, they answered 312 calls for help. He and Sgt. Knight confiscated over twenty-five million dollars in illegal drugs and cash. Diesel was a four-time American Hero Dog of the Year award winner.”

Kay woofs contentedly. “That’s the ticket. If an Akita Inu can be a hero, so can I.”

“Diesel was given the Medal of Courage when he pulled two children out of a burning building…”

“Yeah, I want to be like him…”

“He received it posthumously.”

“Maybe not that part,” Kay woofs.

***

Bucky takes Kay to the Rowayton Dog Park during a break, where he meets up with a perky blonde woman with glasses. He ties Kay to a tree next to a Golden Retriever, who is sitting on his haunches, humming, “Walkin’ the Dog.”

“Is Bucky your keeper?” the Golden Retriever asks. “Good luck if he is. I hear he’s low man on the totem pole at the station.”

“He’s going to be a good cop with me by his side to help him. And I’m going to be a hero and retire to a farm upstate where some little girl will play with me and feed me treats.”

The Golden Retriever groans. “Oh, a dreamer, eh? I’m Axel. The woman talking to Bucky is my keeper. She works at the station with Bucky as an Administrative Aide. They meet here in secret. I think my keeper is embarrassed she likes him.”

“I’m Kay. Looks like we’re going to be spending some time together.”

“Those two silly humans have been playing hide and seek with their emotions for months. He hasn’t even sniffed her yet. Mounting her seems out of the question.”

“Humans don’t mate like us. They get to know each other first.”

Axel chuffs. “They are the most backward species I’ve ever met.”

A teenager jogs up to them, pulling along a huffing Chihuahua. She ties the dog to the tree and pats it on the head, saying, “I’m going to jog around the park. Be a good girl. Stay and talk to your friends.”

“What’s up, Coco?” Axel asks.

Still sucking for air, Coco replies, “I swear that girl is trying to kill me. We ran five miles today. She doesn’t understand that I’m little and I’m forty-nine in dog years. Who’s this?”

“Kay.”

“But you’re a male…”

“As in K-9,” Kay says.

“So, your whole life is a bit of a joke then,” Coco teases.

“You watch, I’m going to be a hero someday.”

“Oh, a dreamer.”

Axel woofs along with the joke, saying, “When I was a guide dog for Millicent, a blind old woman, I used to dream about being kept by a young human, being able to run free in somebody’s back yard instead of bouncing off the walls of our apartment. It was a challenge, right from the beginning, being Millicent’s guide dog. The first thing she did when we met was pet the couch and call it by my name. At least she fed me well, and hugs, she was the queen of them. I know my life could have been worse. My cousin, Smokey, is the guard dog for Oakwood Cemetery. His owner keeps him chained outside twenty-four seven, winter, spring, summer, or fall. He’s got a real short temper and swears he’ll get loose one day and bite everyone who's ever been mean to him. I had a good life with Millicent. Then one day, she was late getting out of bed. I went into her bedroom. She was cold. She went to wherever humans go when they die. I was lucky her niece adopted me; I might have wound up like Smokey.”

A tall, well-dressed woman approaches them, walking a stocky, muscular black pit bull. She is holding something in one hand, while using the other to hold the dog’s leash.

“Who’s that?” Kay asks.

“That’s Tammy Vanderbilt. She’s rich. The dog is Muffin,” Axel says.

Muffin’s broad head turns toward them.

“Step aside, maggots.”

“Friendly, isn’t he?” Kay comments.

“He was in the army,” Coco replies. “Lucky for us, it was our army. He was a bomb sniffer overseas. He also saved two soldiers who were being attacked by enemy soldiers by bringing them down and holding them at bay. He’s got medals.”

Tammy Vanderbilt sits down on a bench a few yards away, biting into her food.

Muffin scans the passersby, ready to pounce on anyone who comes near his mistress.

“Is she eating a hot dog?” Kay asks.

“I was listening to the T.V. and some fat guy with a bad haircut was saying immigrants were eating dogs in Ohio,” Axel replies. “So, now they’re burning dogs and eating them? Some humans are animals.”

Coco pivots around in circles, yapping excitedly. “She’s eating a dog? We have to save it! That’s cannibalism! That’s cruel!”

“Relax, Coco. It’s made from pork,” Kay notes.

“A pig dog?”

“And what were you going to do, Coco, try and knock it out of her hand?” Axel teases. “Muffin would eat you.”

Tammy coughs. Her coughing elevates to choking as a piece of the hot dog lodges in her windpipe. Tammy collapses on the bench. Without hesitation, Muffin jumps on her chest, bouncing up and down repeatedly.

Tammy lets out a loud, “Oouf!” spitting out the hot dog, which tumbles in the air, landing at Kay’s feet.

Regaining her composure, Tammy kisses Muffin on the forehead.

“Good dog! You saved my life! Extra goodies for you when we get home!”

“…Now that’s a hero….,” Kay says.

***

Bucky and Kay respond to a call of a nighttime residential burglary in progress.

Captain Al Thrake and two other officers meet them outside the house.

A Black man built like a linebacker with a determined stare, Al Thrake is the precinct’s most experienced, feared, and respected policeman.

“We spotted the perp’s shadow crossing the living room. He may be headed out the back way. You and Kay watch the back door.”

Captain Thrake cocks an eye at Bucky. “You got this, right, Officer Baker?”

“Absolutely. You can count on us.”

The officers standing behind Captain Thrake roll their eyes, chuckling.

Bucky releases Kay.

“Here’s our chance. Let’s show them what we can do.”

Kay and Bucky hide behind a thick oak in the backyard.

A large figure exits the back door, moving low to the ground.

“GET HIM, KAY!”

Kay races across the backyard, knocking the man to the ground. The man quickly regains his feet and tries to get away, but Kay chomps down on his rear end.

Yelping, the man tries to shake himself free.

Bucky runs up. Pulling out his weapon, he takes wobbly aim at the man.

Cursing, Captain Thrake turns to face Bucky.

Seething, he hisses, “Tell your partner to release me… NOW!”

Kay recognizes the Captain’s voice.

“Uh, oh. Looks like I bit off more than I should chew.”

The robber, captured by two officers in the living room, is taken to the police station, while Captain Thrake is rushed to the hospital, where he receives eight stitches. Several weeks pass by before he can comfortably sit down again.

***

Two months later, a silent alarm is triggered at a jewelry store. A request goes out for a dog that can be sent into the building to conduct a search. With the other dogs miles away, Kay and Bucky respond.

Arriving at the scene, the pair encounter a lanky man in a striped sweatsuit and sunglasses carrying a duffel bag.

Kay barks at the man.

“Behave, Kay. Has anybody run past you?”

“No, just other cops. But I did see a Black dude sneaking around the corner of the building.”

Kay barks at the man as he walks away.

“Bag, genius! Let’s check his bag! And who wears sunglasses at night?”

Bucky releases Kay, who stands still, barking at the man as he hurries away.

“What's the matter, boy?” Bucky asks, pushing him toward the entrance.

“Geez. I’ve got Stevie Wonder for a partner.”

Snorting, Kay enters the building.

In the darkness, he sees a figure standing near the cash register.

Kay leaps at the suspect.

Bucky, Captain Thrake, and three other officers rush in to find Kay attacking a female mannequin.

Kay spits out a plastic hand.

Closing his eyes, Captain Thrake lets out a guttural sigh as the officers break out into side-splitting guffaws.

“Another screw up. You two are going to do more hours on the night shift than Count Dracula.”

***

A month later, Kay and Bucky remain in exile, still working the graveyard shift.

Rowayton’s main street is deserted. Only the hum of the fluorescent lights illuminating the stores can be heard.

Kay looks over at Bucky as he snores loudly.

“Hope you’re having sweet dreams, Rip Van Winkle. Well, somebody has to keep an eye out for the bad guys.”

A man lingers in front of the gun shop. He looks around, unaware that the car across the street is an unmarked police vehicle, then breaks in.

Kay barks loudly.

“What?... What is it, boy? Do you need to be walked?”

Bucky opens up the passenger door. Kay scampers out, running across the street.

“Wait, Kay! Where are you going!”

“To be heroic!”

Bucky pulls out his flashlight and gun, slowly pushing open the door.

Kay quietly pads down the wooden floor toward a faint light at the end of the hallway.

Bucky tries to walk lightly, but the floor creaks, giving away his presence.

A shadowy figure darts into the hallway.

The figure is wearing a sweatsuit and sunglasses and is holding a duffel bag.

“YOU!” both men shout in recognition.

Kay charges at the man, who levels his gun at him, firing.

Kay drops to the floor, wounded in the shoulder.

“You’re going to need more than that pop gun to stop me!”

Skidding across the floor, Kay latches onto the robber’s leg.

Turning his back on Bucky, the robber tries to free himself from Kay.

Kay bites down harder.

Screaming in pain, the robber points his gun at Kay’s head.

Kay looks up at the barrel of the gun. “…I always wanted to be a hero, but not this way.”

Bucky knocks the robber off his feet. Kay keeps a grip on his leg as he and Bucky roll back and forth, struggling for control of the gun.

The gun goes off. A second, deafening report and the smell of gunpowder startle Kay, and he loses his grip on the robber’s leg.

Rolling Bucky off him, the robber stands. Laughing at Kay, he points his gun at him.

Kay vaults at him, knocking the gun from his hand.

Snarling, Kay bites him in the neck.

Captain Thrake’s commanding voice rings out.

“Officer Kay! Heal!”

***

Kay wears his American Hero Dog of the Year Award to Bucky’s funeral.

He manages to remove it from around his neck during the ceremony. When it’s time to pay his respects, he drops the medal at the foot of Bucky’s casket.

A teary-eyed Captain Thrake picks it up. “You sure this is what you want to do?”

Kay nods, and Captain Thrake places the medal inside the coffin with Bucky.

***

Kay looks around at the acres of trees and untouched fields.

He’s been retired for several months and has come to enjoy playing with his new keeper, seven-year-old Mercy Mee.

Mercy skips toward him, holding a ball.

“Time for some exercise,” Kay says, barking enthusiastically.

Mercy pats him affectionately on the head.

“I’ve been thinking. Since you’re mine now, I should be able to call you what I want. How about Bluebell?”

He barks in defiance. “Bluebell? Do I look like a cow?”

“What’s the matter, Bluebell?”

“Kay… My name is Officer Kay!”