It was probably the end of September or the first of October 1969 when Pistol became my dog. If you have read "The Story of Smokey" elsewhere on this site you would know that I had put in a request for one of the four dogs that would soon be available, of which Pistol was one.
I must backtrack a bit to tell of what happened before the day Pistol became my dog. You see, I had made my request to the NCOIC of the K-9 section but he had not made the training NCOIC aware of my request for a new dog. Hence, one day when I arrived at the kennels prior to posting, there were four new guys out in the training area and with them were the four dogs that I had requested. I was furious. Because, I had been told that one of those four dogs would be assigned to me. I had a talk with the training NCOIC and that was when he told me that he had not been made aware of my request etc. He told me, that since the dogs had already been assigned, that the best he could do, would be to ask each of the four new handlers if they were dissatisfied with their dogs and if they would like to exchange that dog for another. It would be a few days to a week before I heard anything.
It had been another long miserable night out on post with Smokey. The agonizing heat, mixed with the mosquitoes, sounds of the B-52's and KC-135's and now it was time to get some sleep (if that was possible) with the noise of the aircraft still filling the air. I went through my usual routine of getting cleaned up before I hit the sack. I lay there for a long time before I finally start cat napping a bit. It seems that is how most of my sleep time went while there. I am not sure how long it was before I finally got up to get a drink of water and go to the latrine, maybe two to three hours. Anyway, I got up, started my walk toward the latrine and met the training NCOIC, who had just entered the barracks. He said, "Sgt. Monger you can have Pistol if you want him, the other handler said he did not want him since he had tried to eat him up several times each day that he took him out." I was ecstatic. So, I immediately got dressed and headed to the kennels to officially meet my new partner. Once there, I proceeded to Pistol's individual kennel, sat down in front of him, "sweet talked him" for maybe five minutes and I knew that this was a match and that he had accepted me without any reservation. I opened the kennel gate, walked in, and he came to me without hesitation. I "loved up" on him big time, giving him all the physical and verbal love and praise that I could. I was proud to have this little, orange dog. Because, I had seen enough of his traits with his first handler, to know that this was a dog that I could depend upon, no matter what the circumstance.
After playing around with him for awhile, in the kennel, I decided that it was time to put the leash and choke chain on him and take him out to the training area, to get even more acquainted with him. Things went wonderfully. He responded to every command with no hesitation whatsoever. He never once offered to try and bite me. I was really curious as to why he had tried to bite the new guy so many times, in the short time that they were together. Maybe they just did not "click". But, here I knew Pistol and I were a match and in a very short time. It was a comforting thought.
A few days later, during a training session, as we were marching with our dogs, Pistol got a bit out of the heel position. I gave a jerk on the leash and told him to heel. Pistol whirled around, growling and commenced to climb right up me. I strung him up, yelling "No". I kept him suspended for a while and gradually let him down but was making sure I kept a "short leash" on him. He settled down as I calmly talked to him. I was bewildered as to why he would have come after me like that.
The same thing happened two more times within two weeks, during training sessions. It was not until the last time that I realized what was happening. It finally dawned on me that Pistol had never really tried to bite me any of those times. Sure, he was growling and climbing up me but he was not trying to bite me. What I thought were attacks toward me ended up being Pistol's way of communicating something to me, in the only way he knew how, in the given situations. Pistol was saying to me, "Hey Boss, you don't have to jerk me around or bust my butt if I do something wrong. All you have to do is tell me "No" and speak to me intelligently, tell me what it is you want done and I will comply. For, it is my desire to please you and make you proud of me. And, the displeasure in your voice hurts me far worse than your jerking on the leash."
I listened very closely to what Pistol had to say to me and learned much from it. I discovered that he was a dog that both needed and demanded respect. As the weeks and months passed I learned more and more about him. But, especially about his need to be talked to, both in reprimand and in praise. He wanted to be talked to intelligently and he wanted "sweet talk" and the sweeter the better. When I told him, "No". Or, that he had done something wrong; it would crush him for a moment, because he did not want to displease me. But, when I would verbally praise him, he would be ecstatic. He absolutely loved it. But, he was very indifferent to physical praise. It seemed on many occasions that he was just merely tolerating my physical affections toward him. But, that was just my Pistol. And, I loved him just the way he was.
