Why?   (Why I became a Police Dog Handler)

A torch & a radio hang off my belt

In winter I freeze, in summer I melt.

I’m awake all night, I’m asleep all day,

Will I patrol my life away?

 

Ours is to see, and not to be seen,

That black & tan shepherd with the handler in green.

If you don’t see us, the man or the dog,

Rest assured we’re doing our job.

 

Those long conversations where nothing is said,

Where he lifts his paw & I pat his head.

He gets all the attention, and deservedly so,

He’s the most courageous creature I know.

 

He’ll sit, down or stay, or rip off your legs,

One word from his handler, and he’ll tear you to shreds.

When he brings down a man, his tail will be wagging,

Though seldom in anger, more likely just bragging.

 

My big furry playmate, so fearsome & tough,

And I’ll never tell you how much is bluff.

All that excitement by the light of the moon,

We’ve waited for months, it’s all over too soon.

 

This same old patrol is becoming a habit,

The only excitement, a cat or a rabbit.

From sunburn to frostbite, from mozzies to flies,

To the wind in your face and the sun in your eyes.

 

We’ve braved all the elements to make piles of money,

The piles I’ve got, and the pay just ain’t funny.

So why you may ask do I favour this life,

Where I talk more to ‘him’ than I do to the wife.

 

If it isn’t the pay, the perks or conditions,

Then what is the reason for this silly rendition?

The reason I stay here, and the reason I slog,

Is not for the money, but for the love of a dog.

 

So why, you may ask when you quiz,

Is the friendship between us so fine,

Because the life he lays down will be his,

And the life that he saves will be mine.

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Grant Teeboon -  April 1987

(The above poem may be reproduced provided that it is not altered in any way and that Grant Teeboon is clearly acknowledged as the author in all circumstances)

‘The Paw Man’