Jared was glad that somebody finally had adopted him. The thought of being put down had begun to gnaw at his mind, picking away at his sanity. Carla had noticed his anxiousness as the day of his destruction had begun to draw nigh. Thus he greeted the pleasant officer exuberantly, licking at the man's hands and face, and barking excitedly.
"Easy boy, easy!" the man said, luahging and patting him on the back. He had a leash with him, which Jared allowed him to attach to his collar. "Looks like he's had some training."
Carla nodded and smiled. "He's quite well behaved. I'm sure he'll be a great partner."
"That's right," the policeman said, rubbing his hand over the fur between Jared's ears. Jared really enjoyed that. "You and me are gonna be partners boy! You're going to love being a police dog!"
Jared gave a delighted woof at that. He wasn't so sure how much he would enjoy being a police dog. But it was a heck of a lot better than being a dead dog. And perhaps he might have a chance to get that medallion too. He certainly was never going to see it again if he had been adopted by some family.
The officer, whose named turned out to be Randy Kempe, was a man of medium build, light brown hair, and a pleasant demeanour. Probably in his late twenties, maybe early thirties by the looks of him. He didn't have on wedding ring, and the only smells were of the the street, tar and so forth. Officer Kempe led Jared out of the pound by the leash. He apparently filled out the paperwork already, becuase they did not stop on their way.
Carla said goodby to Jared, giving him a milkbone for a treat. Jared found them surprisingly tasty, at least compared to the kibbles, which were mostly tasteless. He took the milkbone between his teeth, but did not eat it just yet, letting Carla pet him one last time. She was a really nice lady. Even if she always treated him like a dog.
Officer Kempe had driven up in an unmarked car, nice blue Crown Victoria. He opened up the passanger side and undid the leash. Jared jumped in, and sat on the passenger seat, where he quickly ate his milkbone. He was licking up the crumbs from the leather seats by the time that Randy was climbing in the driver's side. "Hmmm, you need a name boy. What should I call you?"
Jared's tail wagged a little bit as Randy started the car and began to pull out of the pound lot. He'd merged onto the city street and was heading for the opposite end of town before he spoke again. "I'll have to think about that tonight. You don't got a name do you boy?"
Jared let out another woof, wishing that he could tell the nice officer who he was, but knowing he couldn't. His attempts at trying to tell the people at the pound had proven futile.
Kempe turned down a side street into a residential area. "Well, I'll have a name for ya tomorrow morning. And then we'll go to K-9 training together. Would ya like that, boy?" He reached one hand over and scratched Jared between the ears.
Jared's tail wagged against the back of the seat and he gave another hearty woof.