My name is Taz, and this is the story of my retirement from active duty to civilian life as a service dog. My hashtag is #tazoteausmc and this Day 10.
We got up late this morning. 1000 hours. The little boy took me outside and let me sniff the cars for explosives, but it was not a full perimeter check, and I’m worried. Later we’re going swimming. Sigh. Do my feet look webbed?
Last night, I got presents in the mail from my “Puppy Auntie” Kimmy Fix. She sent me a cool collar that glows in the dark. It’s way more comfortable than my chain collar, and it’s a pretty blue color. But it reflects light! So impractical for stealth missions. These humans mean well, but it’s no wonder that they need dogs to keep them alive.
She also sent these round bouncing things. They make squeaky noises that Ned likes and that make that crazy feathered thing in the cage scream.
Honestly, everything makes that thing scream. I suspect it’s some kind of defective alarm system because it makes noise a lot over nothing. The humans yell at it, cover it and threaten to get its wings trimmed. I don’t know what that means, but if it that’s how you fix it to be quiet, I hope they do it soon.
I sniffed the new balls, and they weren’t the exploding kind I’m used to, so I didn’t have to throw them out the window and hide the humans. But now they’re throwing them at me. What is this craziness? Ned chases them, but I already told you he’s a moron. Food lady put some slimy stuff she called peanut butter on one and gave it to me. I think she wanted me to lick it. She should put taco in it. I’m not touching the slime butter.
Some guy named Amazon sent us something called a DVD. I think it was a mistake, but food lady and the boy said it was a sign from the universe. We’re going to watch it tonight in the talking box where the small one (poorly) plans missions to kill aliens. It’s called Unleashed, which is how all dogs should be. Maybe it’s a human training program. They need it.
Last night we had another disaster. The cat called Ned got into the box that my toys came in and then the other one called Cheeto started poking his feet into it. It was a true boss battle! Finally! My turn to shine!
I know Cheeto is the unit commander here, so I leapt into action and threw myself onto the box to trap Ned inside and await orders. I laid on it, and he started yowling. Cheeto ran away to the high ground above the food box and acted like he didn’t know what was going on, and the boy came out of his room.
I didn’t know what to do, and I couldn’t hold my position once Ned started stabbing me with his pointy daggers through the box, so I tackled the boy and laid on top of him to protect him from our furry enemy. The kitchen stools got knocked over and the bags on them spilled and Ned exploded from his prison in a rage and ran under the chair. Food lady woke up and threw the box out the front door and threatened to take all of us to a place called the SPCA. I assume that that’s Specialized Pet Covert Action training facility. I wonder if I could teach there?
— Excerpt from the Diary of Taz, a Retired Military Service Dog
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