Jack was never a joiner, but this day would be different. He'd left street life behind at the shelter.
Clippers snipped away now, stray hairs fell to the floor. Smells of crisp uniforms, leather boots and shoe polish swirled nearby.
Throughout training, he'd kept his cool as shots were fired, showed his sharp focus. Sarge had been impressed.
"Jack! Over here." Sergeant George's eyes lit up. "Come on, boy, let's show 'em what you got!" Sarge was one super guy. He patted the German shepherd's back with a firm hand.
They moved together as a team toward the waiting helicopter.
Theresa A. Cancro writes poetry, fiction and nonfiction. Her work has been published internationally in print and online publications, including Kind of a Hurricane Press anthologies and journals, Lost Paper, Haibun Today, Modern Haiku, The Heron's Nest, A Hundred Gourds, Presence, Shamrock, Chrysanthemum, Cattails, The Artistic Muse, and Leaves of Ink, among others.