Page 7 of Surge
Surge let out a keening whine. Excited. Eager to work.
“Easy. Heel,” Delaney said, patting her leg, which brought his black hide against her pant leg. She glanced around, anxious for Mr. Finch to take charge before this went south.
“Steven Eagen!” Mr. Finch pointed at the boy, then to the floor. “I am so sorry, Miss Thompson.”
“Aw, come on, Mr. Finch.” The youth climbed down the bleachers. “We won the football championship yesterday. We’re celebrating!”
Finch motioned him out the door and confiscated the rest of the poppers.
“Ooh! You’re in trouble,” the others called.
With an unrepentant grin, Eagen hung his head and walked out.
Mr. Finch quickly texted. “Letting the principal know he’s on his way,” he muttered as he joined her at the front. “Are we still good for this exhibition, Miss Thompson?”
She looked over at Surge. Seated, keen eyes on the kids, and tongue dangling, he was calm. Man, he’d come a long way. “Yeah. Looks like we’re good.”
Mr. Finch introduced her as Surge watched over the crowd, the soft push of his muscular body against her leg. Delaney kept her posture relaxed, a cue this eighty-pound Malinois would no doubt mimic.
“They’re all yours,” Mr. Finch said as he took a seat on the second row.
She moved to the center of the gym and put Surge in a heel. “Hello. I am Delaney Thompson, an intern trainer with A Breed Apart ranch, and this is Surge L724, a six-year-old Belgian Malinois,” she told the group. “He’s a former military working dog—or MWD—who is now a contract working dog. That means aworkingdog. All work, all day. For every period of work and training, he earns this reward.” She held up the roped KONG, and Surge’s eyes snapped to the dangling toy. “As you can see, even when he wants to play, he is one hundred percent intense. That’s what made him such an outstanding MWD. Keep that in mind—because to Surge, work is play. He loves it. So never approach or try to pet him unless I tell you it’s okay, because he is trained to respond and protect me. Everyone understand?”
She waited until heads were nodding. “For our demonstration, Surge is going to search for shallow scent tins. I have ten of them.”
A nod to Finch had him passing out the scent packs to the students. She played a short working-dog video as the tins made the rounds through the bleachers. At the end, she resumed her spot at the center with Surge. “Anyone ever smell birch before?”
One hand raised.
“What does it smell like?” Delaney asked.
The girl pursed her lips in thought. “I don’t know . . . kind of like root beer, maybe.” She shrugged. “My mom loves it.”
Delaney laughed. “I have to agree with her and with your description. Some people say it’s minty.” She motioned to the side door that led to a bit of lawn. “I’m going to take Surge outside for a moment, and Mr. Finch will let those of you holding the scent tins hide them. Then Surge and I will return to let him do his job.” She started to walk away but turned back. “And do me a favor? He has to earn his KONG time, so don’t make it easy for him, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am,” they chorused.
She headed out to the grassy area. After he did his business, she let him sniff around for a couple minutes, played tug with him. She turned and put him in a sit, then waited for his eyes to meet hers. “Let’s show Heath we can do this.” When his tail wagged, Delaney ruffled his ears.
The door opened and Finch nodded. “We’re ready.”
“Okay, Surge,” she said with a breath for courage. “Time to work.”
His pace slowed to a drag as they returned to the gym, and she fought the clench in her gut. Heath’s admonishment to her over the last eight weeks as he’d begrudgingly allowed her to continue counterconditioning Surge rang in her head. Emotion travels down lead.
She grinned, stood, and signaled a jump—his favorite trick. He leaped into her arms. “Are you ready? Are you ready?”
Surge gave her a sloppy kiss across her face and jumped back to the ground, his tail practically causing a breeze.
“Let’s do it.” She pulled the door open, and the roar of the kids smacked her. They sure had ratcheted while they were waiting. She could handle it. So could Surge.
This was going to be fun.
She ruffled his ears again, then slipped her hand around his collar, a move that sent anticipation through his muscular body, making his black fur bristle. “Surge, seek!”
Lunging ahead, Surge dropped his nose to the ground, trotted to the right, hauling in scents. He turned his head side to side. At the trash can, he got a hit. Planted himself in front of it.
“Good boy!” Amid the kids’ applause, she got him back to work looking for the others. When he’d found them all, she’d give him some KONG time. He quickly located two more, and she felt exultant. She’d known he could do it—she could do it!