RAAF Police Dog 'Rocky'
Rocky was my 4th Police Dog in 23 years. I was re-teamed with him in November 1995 after completing 5 years as an Instructor at the Police Dog Handler Training School. My first few months with Rocky in early 1996 were hard on both of us as he had a lot of behavioural problems that needed correcting.
Rocky, like all the other dogs at Fairbairn, had a thick coat to enable him
to cope with the cold working conditions. It is
not uncommon there to go into the kennels every morning to break the skin of
ice that had formed on the dogs’ water buckets. Kennels
are cleaned every afternoon, unlike other bases where they are cleaned in the
morning. This is because the hoses are usually frozen
solid until at least lunchtime. The dogs are fed
once a day, seven days a week. Their diet consists
of top quality dry biscuits and Mutton Flap bones.
Due to his age and several other factors, Police Dog
Rocky was subject to euthanasia on the 30th June 1999. If you
are interested in Rocky’s last day, please read the text below.
Rocky’s Last Day
Today was the day. I turned up at work at 0900 hours and shared a packet
of Tim Tams (wickedly rich chocolate biscuits) with Rocky in the kennels before
letting him run loose on the nearby paddock to chase birds and bunnies (he caught
neither). I then set him on the grooming table and made him look a million dollars
for his final journey.
At 1100 hours I loaded him into
the back of the dog truck and we drove to the vet for the last time. I was tempted to put on the red and blue police lights
but then decided against it, as what I was about to do was a very personal thing,
and I really didn’t want to bring any other attention to what was to be
our final moment.
I arrived at the vets and left
Rocky in the truck and went in and chatted to the vet about anything and everything
other than why I was there (he already knew in advance). After we had covered the news, the weather and the peeling
paint on his walls, I succumbed to the inevitable and went out and brought Rocky
into the surgery. As the vet was preparing the needle
I asked him if we could do the task outside on the green field at the rear of
his surgery. I figured that the last thing my faithful
friend would see should be the trees and grass, not the inside of a vet’s
surgery. He paused long enough for me to say some
very anthropomorphic things that my heart could not leave unsaid.
Once all was said, I held my mate in my arms and nodded to the vet to
proceed. I kissed him goodbye and he answered with
his last sigh as he grew heavy in my arms. The vet
moved away and I sat on the ground with my mate in my arms.
I don’t know how long
I was there, it could have been 5 minutes, it could have been an hour, but when
I was able to accept that he had gone and had covered him in an unmanly amount
of tears, I was able to re-enter the vets surgery and organise the necessary
paperwork. I shared a cup of coffee with the vet
and his nurse and it appeared to be a never ending (but salty) cup, but I suspect
that I was supplementing the coffee with my own tears. By the time I left, both the vet and nurse had shed tears
too. I have seen this vet put down many dogs, but
this was the first time I had seen him cry. For
some unknown reason, seeing him cry made me feel a lot better.
The drive back to Base with
an empty truck was just as hard as the drive to the vet.
I returned to the kennel complex and removed Rocky’s name plate
off his kennel gate and I have kept it to put in pride of place with the three
other that will be front and centre on my bar.
Although I am very aware what happens to the dogs body after it is euthanased, I am reminded of the poem entitled “The best place to bury a dog”, and in keeping with that poem you can rest assured that Rocky is buried alongside my three other Police Dogs in the most picturesque corner of my heart.