Letter to a Future Warrior: Part 2
This heartwarming letter was written by one of our K9 Trainers, Hannah.
8 min read
Dear Future Warrior,
The last time I wrote to you, I was a K9 Caretaker on our Kennel Team. You can read that letter, here. Over the past three years, I’ve been fortunate enough to complete a K9 Training Apprenticeship and continue growing my training career here at K9s for Warriors. As a K9 Trainer, I now have an entirely new perspective on the incredible mission we serve: saving lives at both ends of the leash.
Today, I want to share that perspective with you—the journey of your future battle buddy, and the story of his life before he met you. Thanks to you, he will get a second chance at life. And thanks to him, you will too.
I remember his first day of training like it was yesterday. Seven months ago, I was told I had a new dog on my string. Eagerly, I rushed over to the kennels to meet him. I immediately noticed his overgrown nails, messy coat, and ribs showing on both sides of his body. But what captured my heart was the scrappy smile right in front of me, ready to begin the first day of his new life as a Service Dog in training.
After some time to settle in and get to know each other, we promptly began our training journey—and oh, what a journey it would be.
When working with rescue dogs, you never quite know what to expect. Often, you can piece together parts of their story through their personality, their reactions to new experiences, and their curiosity about the world. For many of these dogs, it’s their first time stepping into the human world outside the shelter. For some, that world has been cruel, leaving behind scars and fears that must be mended with time and love. For others, it may be the first time they’ve ever had the chance to form a relationship beyond a five-minute walk once a week with a passing volunteer.
Needless to say, patience is an absolute must.
During the first couple of weeks with a new dog, it can be tough to get their attention. Usually, they want to sniff and explore every new thing around them. They pull hard on the leash, hard, darting from one scent to the next, dragging you along like an insignificant bystander on their grand expedition.
And can you blame them?
Imagine living within four cement walls, watching people pass by every day, rarely looking at you for more than a moment. If only he could have imagined the journey he was about to embark on.
For some dogs, it takes only a few days before they begin focusing on their handler. For others, it can take weeks. For this sweet boy, it would take months before we made any real progress.
After the first few days exploring our campus and introducing him to his new home, it was time to begin public access training—where the real work begins. We started slowly: a quick visit to Ace Hardware, then a coffee shop, then Home Depot a few days later.
I spent weeks patiently waiting for him to engage with me—or even take a treat—and I still got nothing. He didn’t care about the snacks I offered, the loving puppy talk and butt scratches, or even the peanut butter I brought along for good measure. All he wanted to do was sniff and explore the world.
To be honest, I’m not sure if he even realized I was there.
Still, I remained patient, allowing him to fully indulge in the hustle and bustle of the human world. He loved every second of it. I tried bringing along another dog friend, hoping he might see how fun working together could be. He couldn’t have cared less—off he went, sniffing along.
Then I tried introducing him to people in public, thinking the excitement of meeting someone new might spark something in him. Again, nothing.
Next came squeaky toys, meaty wet food, and a favorite stuffed animal. He was beginning to love these things on campus, so maybe he’d enjoy them off campus too?
Nada.
The next day, I brought the one thing that would completely change the trajectory of our training: a long line.
This long line—a simple 15-foot nylon leash—gave him the freedom he craved to explore even more of the world around him. And once again, I waited patiently, hoping to capture even the briefest moment of eye contact during our sessions.
Finally, nearly two months in...success. We got a “sit.”
I celebrated in that Home Depot like I’d just won $100 on a lottery ticket. Then another one, and another.
It was only one basic cue of many, but it marked the true beginning of our progress. From there, we continued exploring the world together, waiting for those fleeting moments of focus when I could ask for another cue.
After nearly four months, he finally began achieving a few of his service cues. He couldn’t hold them long before scurrying off to his next sniffing adventure, but it was a glimpse into the Service Dog I knew he could become.
In the meantime, we focused heavily on bonding back on campus. I introduced different foods, treats, toys, and puzzles to discover what motivated him most. Slowly, we built trust and a connection neither of us fully expected.
Before long, I discovered what a cuddler he truly was. He loved having his neck scratched and would lean into me with the biggest smile. Afterwards, he’d burst into bunny hops around the yard as if to say, “thank you for being so patient with me.”
We practiced agility skills, obstacle courses, and sniffari games to show him just how fun working for rewards could be. We socialized with other dogs, spent time with the caretakers, and slowly built a sense of safety in his home here at K9s.
Then, about four and a half months in, something clicked.
It was as if he woke up that morning and decided he was ready to be a Service Dog—and he was determined to prove it. When he performed a skill correctly, he would snap his head toward me as if asking, “Did you see that? Did you see how great I did?”
Soon he was eagerly taking treats and nudging my hand for more. In that moment, I realized something remarkable: he had been listening all along. He had simply been storing the knowledge until he was ready to use it.
Before I knew it, we were visiting places like the Jacksonville Zoo, Dave & Buster’s, and even a Jacksonville Icemen hockey game. He began slowing down, observing the world around him, and listening carefully to what I asked of him.
He started reading me like a book—knowing when to perform a “look” cue to watch my back or when to patiently wait while I spoke with a fellow trainer or future Warrior.
And just like that, he was ready to take his Final Skills Test and become the Service Dog he was always meant to be.
It’s hard to describe the confidence and trust that grows between a trainer and a dog. For some dogs, it comes easily—with a quick treat and a belly rub. But for dogs like him, it takes months of consistency and effort to earn their trust.
And as the saying goes, the fruit of labor is the sweetest of pleasures.
The relationship that grows through that dedication is indescribably meaningful. You become part of one another’s story, moving forward together as one.
Knowing that I am helping pave the way for a Veteran like you to build a lifesaving bond with a dog like him is all the motivation I need to do this work every day.
After months of dedication, patience, and passion for healing, saying goodbye is always bittersweet. I leave a piece of my heart with every dog I train—and I wouldn’t change that for the world.
Pairings day arrives faster than I can blink. Suddenly, I’m standing in the Warrior yard, waiting to hand off my sweet boy to you—his forever battle buddy.
As we wait together, I give him a kiss on the head and tell him about the incredible things he’s about to do. I tell him how proud I am of him. My eyes fill with tears behind the dark shade of my sunglasses as I think back to our first day of training and how far he has come.
Over the next three weeks, I hear about how wonderfully he’s doing and how perfect the two of you are together. The bond we built over seven months is quickly surpassed within your first two weeks as partners, and I couldn’t be happier for you both.
I eagerly await our weekly check-ins so I can see him again and hear about the adventures and milestones you’ve already shared. I watch in awe as you go from barely making eye contact on pairing day to beaming with confidence and happiness by week three.
“This is what it’s all about,” I think to myself as I watch you stand tall in a room that once felt impossible to enter.
Then graduation day arrives.
As you walk across the floor to receive your certificate, I can’t help but let the emotions flow. At last, all of our hard work has led up to this moment.
From an almost forgotten shelter dog to a life-saving Service Dog, he has overcome so much to stand beside you today.
In just three short weeks, the two of you have built a partnership stronger than anything he’s ever known. And in that same short time, you’ve begun to heal in ways you never imagined possible.
I hold back tears of joy as I say my final goodbyes to you and your new battle buddy. Deep down, I know life for the two of you is about to become something brighter than either of you thought possible after the rough roads that brought you together.
As a Service Dog trainer at K9s for Warriors, I have a superpower. I get to save the lives of these incredible dogs and teach them how to save Veterans’ lives in return.
Together, we are healing a nation and serving those who have served us—saving lives at both ends of the leash.
With love,
