roadside and dodged bullets in the street. Ours was a friendship made for life.
Jenny Chester had wanted to join the Army from the moment she saw her big brother in his uniform. She thought he looked so smart and the exciting stories he had to share made her want to be part of it all. She wanted to be able to make their parents proud too and so, from the age of 14 her career path was set: to follow in her brother’s military footsteps. By the time she reached 17 Jenny had dabbled with the idea of becoming a vet, but just as quickly had discounted the idea when she imagined the times she couldn’t help a patient. Helping them heal was one thing, but having to put them to sleep was quite another. A career in the Army working with animals was the logical answer, so Jenny left the family home in Kent and joined up.
Dogs had featured in many of Jenny’s earliest childhood memories. There had always been a dog or dogs in the house, and out of the many the family adopted over the years it was a Border collie called Judy who found herself a place in Jenny’s heart. With traditional black-and-white colouring, soft brown eyes and an ever-alert expression, Judy was Jenny’s constant companion from the age of four, and was always ready to walk a million miles at the drop of a hat. This dog rarely sat still but when she did it was never far from the biscuit barrel, although she would only eat biscuits if dunked in tea first.
Judy was 18 when she died. Jenny had grown up with the collie at her side so it was no wonder that this was the dog she measured every other one against. To Jenny, Judy was the perfect canine friend: always there when she was needed, always able to sense when Jenny needed the comfort of her head on her lap. To suddenly not have her around was very painful for Jenny. Then and there, aged 14, she made the decision always to have a dog in her life.
Army life suited Jenny and the three months of basic training passed relatively quickly. Within no time she was on her way to the Defence Animal Centre, Dog Training School in Melton Mowbray in Leicestershire. She was now just hours away from meeting her first AES (Arms and Explosives Search) dog – the dog who would be her partner, if all went well, for the next few years. Jenny felt a surge of excitement mixed with a little anxiety at the prospect. The induction process and the paperwork seemed to take forever. Settling in to the accommodation, drawing new kit and getting to know the other new recruits was all part of the excitement, but where was the dog?
The matching of handler and dog is similar in a way to an arranged marriage. By the time Jenny met her dog the Army had already done its homework and reached a decision on the best dog for her. But Jenny knew nothing about this dog – only that it would almost certainly be a Labrador. In reality not one of the recruits knew a thing until a list appeared on the noticeboard in the mess that Monday evening. Jenny eagerly checked it for her name on the AES dog assignment list. It read: ‘AES dogs to be assigned as follows:…Private Jenny Chester – Bonnie…’
‘I couldn’t wait for morning to come,’ recalled Jenny. ‘I felt like a kid on Christmas Eve. Silly really for a grown woman but I can’t deny it, I was excited. I wanted to meet this dog. I wanted to get to work and live out my dream. And I had a vivid mental picture of this dog.’ From the moment Jenny was told her dog’s name was Bonnie she started working on a mental picture of an adorable Labrador, a big, playful puppy just like the one on the toilet roll adverts, all kisses and cuddles when off duty and totally loyal and attentive when on duty. According to Jenny, Bonnie was, of course, going to be the best AES dog ever, and by the time she reached the kennels she was more than ready to meet this ‘wonder dog’.
Tuesday morning arrived. Rows and rows of dogs met Jenny and the seven other trainees as they stepped through the doors to the kennels. And what a welcome! A thousand decibels of eager, barking dogs, a hefty stink of disinfectant and a whiff of ‘dog’ grabbed everyone by the nostrils. Jenny smiled. She knew this was a smell she would have to get used to as it was going to be greeting her every day for some years to come. Taking a good look around Jenny could see the springer spaniels, German shepherds and a selection of Labradors all looking eager and friendly. Perhaps it was the sight of the uniforms that made the dogs so excitable, or maybe it was the fact that Jenny and her fellow trainees were the new kids on the block. As they were escorted through the kennel block Jenny quickly scanned the many faces staring out at her and wondered which dog was destined for her.
‘Private Chester, your dog’s over there.’ Jenny looked to where the sergeant was pointing and there was a big, fit, smiley Labrador. It was love at first sight. ‘Hello Bonnie,’ said Jenny, extending her hand for Bonnie to sniff. No sooner had Jenny said her name than this cuddly dog was rolling over to show her tummy, lapping up the attention.
Dog and handler spent the rest of the morning together walking, playing and getting to know each other. ‘As we sat together and then played catch and tug of war with the few toys she had in her kennel, I started to imagine how this partnership would work out. It felt so good and I remember hitting my bunk that night just knowing that I had the perfect dog for the job. I called my family to tell them all about Bonnie. I couldn’t have been happier. I just knew the next few weeks we were to spend getting to know each other were going to be a doddle.’
Next morning Jenny was up early to see Bonnie and take her out for a walk, and to start the series of exercises which culminated in a passing-out parade in 15 weeks’ time. By the time Jenny had Bonnie on her leash she was feeling pretty confident. Just 10 minutes later, Bonnie seemed to have suffered a personality change. The dog that had been super-friendly and easy to please was suddenly the most stubborn canine on the planet. Everything Jenny asked her to do, the Labrador ignored or performed in slow motion. Right there and then Jenny felt she was the butt of a cruel joke. She was convinced that someone had swapped her Bonnie for some dog from hell.
Out of the corner of her eye Jenny could see the trainers looking at each other: they were smiling. What was so funny? Certainly Jenny couldn’t see anything to laugh about. It turned out that Bonnie had something of a history. Jenny was not her first handler; she was her third in the last few months. Like the other seven dogs on the course Bonnie was a fully trained AES dog but she didn’t have a handler. If she didn’t make it this time with this handler it would be the end of the line for her, at least in that role. Jenny and Bonnie had to make it, for Bonnie’s sake.
Jenny wondered if this stubborn dog’s ‘Miss Stroppy’ ways had been her downfall all along. Certainly her ‘Miss Oh So Cute’ act one minute and her ‘You must be joking I’m not doing that’ attitude the next had not done her any favours so far. She wouldn’t listen to a word Jenny said and although she knew there had to be a reason for the dog’s behaviour, it was something that had to wait for now. Both had to get through the next three months of training and it was not going to be the doddle Jenny thought. This was going to be uphill all the way for dog and handler.
Bonnie had already proved herself a good AES dog. She had shown she had the skill and determination required for the job. Jenny, as a handler, had to show the same in equal proportions. The two had to work in partnership to create the kind of bond built on absolute trust – the trust needed to do the job.
The training Bonnie had gone through to become an AES dog was based on modern reward-based training techniques. The focus of the rewards was the humble tennis ball. To be able to find a specific item or substance a dog must first be exposed to its scent. Each time the dog locates that particular scent it indicates a ‘find’ by standing still. A find is rewarded with what becomes the dog’s favourite plaything – a tennis ball.
Bonnie and Jenny were now being put to the test as a partnership. To pass out as a proficient AES team they would have to locate successfully weapons, explosives, ammunition and bomb-making equipment hidden in various locations, as they would have to for real in the field: in houses, factories, on roadsides and all kinds of outdoor terrain. In the next 15 weeks together they had to prove that they could work as an effective partnership, but Bonnie was not going to make it easy.
The first exercise was to search a large factory area, Bonnie and Jenny taking the upper level. Bonnie happily sniffed and swaggered her way up the staircases to the top level of the concrete maze of a building without any bother at all. But when she reached the railings at the top she just couldn’t help having a laugh. ‘She walked to the railings, looked at me and then popped her head through the bars,’