My Dog Ginger

by Matthew Durkley


Frantically I pawed at my pocket for my gun. Ginger stood loyally beside me, and I didn’t give her the signal to go forward. Not yet. Like a good dog, she just stood there on her toes, waiting for me to raise my hand. I knew the situation was dangerous, and I knew we’d stood together through many in the past. What I didn’t know at that moment was that this time, the effects would change my life.
I’ve been an officer for 15 years now. I was one of those people who knew their calling at a young age, and I was completely devoted to being a police officer by the time I was in high school. The idea of issuing control, of saving lives and preventing crime captivated me.

About 11 years ago, my department introduced patrol dogs. Personally I thought it was a great idea. It was a big event, and we all went through training the dogs from young ages for various police work. It was my job to train the public order enforcement dogs-or more commonly called attack or patrol dogs. The breed we used was the German Shepherd. I’ve always been a dog lover, and for me, having patrol dogs was like having another partner.

I was assigned to train a group of four pups for my section of the department. It amazed me how fast these dogs learned, and training them was like another level of bonding. I grew especially close to Ginger, who I named after her beautiful coat and deep brown eyes. Once she was trained, I brought Ginger on patrols with me. For years we patrolled the city together; whenever I was called to a scene she was with me. A great listener and trained perfectly, she proved herself to be at the top of the list of all the patrol dogs in the unit. I was incredibly proud to have her by my side. Our adventures included cornering a thief at the scene of a robbery at a general store, being on the scene at many car accidents, and most frequently, catching drivers trying to run from the law. She’d wait for my signal, and if needed she’d bring the criminals down. On duty she was my rock, my protector, but off-duty I couldn’t help treating her like a pet. I felt like our team was invincible-nothing could pass us.

Until one day.

It was springtime of 2007. Ginger and I had been partners for nearly eight years. She was getting older, and so was I, but that didn’t mean we’d lost our spark. That day, we received a rather strange call at the office. It was from the local public school.

“911 what’s your emergency?”
“There’s an armed gunman outside my school!”

I was sent to the scene. Incredibly worked up, I turned my flashers on and sped to the elementary school. While trying to remain calm, I thought about how we’d never had any problems at the local school before. Living in a fairly quiet and small town, we didn’t get much commotion at the school, let alone a gunman. Thoughts were flying through my head just as fast as I was driving. I remember knowing Ginger was beside me, in the front seat, but she wasn’t what was on my mind at that point. I was thinking about the kids.

The caller had said it was recess time, and the teachers on duty had noticed a man about medium height with a dirty blue jacket wander onto the courtyard. He appeared to be intoxicated, and when two of the teachers went to assess the situation, he pulled a gun on them. I didn’t know any more than that, but let me tell you, I was scared. Terrified.

When I got there the first thing I noticed was the silence. For some reason I thought that scene would be a huge commotion of people screaming and running around. I wasn’t exactly expecting this, but I was relieved that I didn’t see anyone hurt. Before getting out of my car, I made sure to turn on my radio. If backup was needed, it was just a short call away.

I stepped out of my car and patted my pocket to make sure my own gun was there. Ginger hopped down and followed me, panting and very alert. I saw officers Pratt and Smith pull up in the same car on the opposite side of the school. I waited for the signal that it was clear on their side, then I started my descent towards the back doors of the school.

As I rounded the corner of the back of the school I saw a few kids in the distance huddled behind a bench. I started walking towards them, and that’s when I saw the gunman. He had three children sitting down in front of him, crying and holding each other. He appeared to be reading something to them.

Rage built up inside me. I motioned my partners to cross to my side so we could try to corner the man before he could spot us. Trying to steady my own breath, I motioned silence to the kids when they saw me, but it was too late.
“Put your hands in the air!” Officer Pratt shouted.

The man turned and looked at him. When he saw that Officer Pratt’s gun was drawn, he turned back and I saw him slip a hand into his own pocket.

“Get your goddam hands in the air, now!” I shouted forcefully.
Instead of doing as he was told, the gunman started walking in the opposite direction, away from us and away from the kids he’d had cornered. He took slow steps, and I could see his elbows starting to rise. Having his back to us made me nervous though, as with Officer Smith, who drew his gun and circled towards the man, telling him again to put both hands in the air. I felt an urge to run the three kids and get them out of there, but I knew Officer Smith couldn’t bring this man down alone when I saw the man defying orders a third time. It was time to get more serious.
“Both hands in the air, or I will send the dog on you!”
At that moment one of the kids screamed, and I turned my head for just enough time for the gunman to notice I wasn’t looking for that split second. Faster than I could turn my head back the gunman whipped out his weapon, took aim at Officer Smith, and fired. Officer Smith fell backwards clutching his leg.
Frantically I pawed at my pocket for my gun. Ginger stood loyally beside me, and I didn’t give her the signal to go forward. Not yet. Like a good dog, she just stood there on her toes, waiting for me to raise my hand.
Immediately Officer Pratt rushed to his side and shouted “Take him down!” to me. Out of all the confusion I managed to draw my gun and at the same time talk into my radio. “Officer Gold requesting back-“
Mid-sentence I froze as I saw the gunman turn around and take aim at me.
His eyes were hard and red, his breathing heavy. His expression was something I still can’t describe today, one of revenge and…evil. Time seemed frozen for the next few seconds. I felt my mouth moving, forming the words “drop the weapon”, with no success. I heard myself speak from a distance, as if I was watching myself from above. The air was frozen around me.
I had hardly noticed Ginger still panting beside me, giving little growls periodically. I sensed her presence, but I didn’t want to put her in danger unless absolutely necessary. But as soon as the man raised his gun on me, something must have changed inside her. Without signal, she lunged forward.
I know she would have stopped in her tracks if I had commanded her to. She was a good dog. But I didn’t. She jumped full force towards the man’s right arm, the one holding the gun. The scene was in slow motion to me as the man turned his hand directly facing Ginger’s body.
As soon as I heard the blast, it was as if I’d been shot. I felt the breath explode out of me, and I yelled. I watched like I was looking through a bubble as Officer Pratt rushed the gunman from behind and pushed him to the ground. The scene was a blur in front of me; everything was spinning. Ginger was lying on the ground in front of them, while I just stood there, trying to get my head on straight, panting like a dog.
I ran over and fell to my knees, cradling Ginger’s head in my hands. Her fur was matted with dirt and sweat, her muzzle grey. Looking so closely at her, I realized how old she was getting, how much we pushed her and how much she pushed herself. I also felt deep inside of me just how proud I was of her. She looked at me with those deep brown eyes as if to say “Did I do it? Did I do my job?” Slow tears seeped out of my eyes as I whispered “Yea, yea you did.” She closed her eyes.
“Officer Gold. Officer Gold, repeat, are you requesting backup?”
I stood up slowly and pulled out my beaten radio. It seemed like a lifetime ago that I had used it. “No,” I said, wiping my face. “We got him Chief.”
We found out later that the gunman was after revenge on his ex wife and child, who took off and left him just a month earlier. He had been reading a letter from his ex wife to his kid at the school when I came to the scene, and it was apparently pretty heartless. But of course that doesn’t save you in this time of law, and he’ll sit in jail for years on multiple charges.
Officer Smith was taken to the ER shortly after we cleared the scene, where we found out the bullet had only grazed his leg. Far from just a scratch, but he’ll be okay. He was the lucky one. For me, it took a whole lot longer.
A few hours later, we buried Ginger in the backyard of the station. Almost all the members of the station were there, and some even said some farewell words. I was the one who kept silent.
This experience did change me. I am more grateful for every day I step out of bed, every time I see my friends at the station, and every hug I get from my family. I’ve realized just how precious every day of life is, and how hard it is to continue yours when an amazing partner is taken from your side. I’ve started a fund in honor of Ginger to purchase bullet-proof vests for all the patrol dogs in our department. People heard about the story, and how she saved the kids, and it always feels amazing when someone makes a donation. We are almost there, and then every member of our team, two legs or four, will have the full protection they deserve.
When I think about my time with Ginger, I don’t think about that day. I think about all the other adventures we had together, and even laugh sometimes. I think about her deep brown eyes and golden brown coat. How she stood beside me, fearless, mission after mission. How she died a brave hero, for the officers, the children, and for me. After that day, I vowed to be just like her in my occupation. I do everything I can do make good in this world. I want to be courageous, loyal; I want to be a fighter, and what inspires me today is the incredible story of my dog, Ginger.