After life of search and rescue, dog finds rest in suburbs

Mona Shield Payne / Special to the Home News

Blondie, a 13-year-old German Shepherd, sits on guard waiting for her trainer, Charlene Bruno, to give her a command to go to “work.” Retired from search-and-rescue missions, Blondie now works as a therapy dog in retirement and group homes.

By Jeremy Twitchell

Thursday, Oct. 16, 2008 | midnight

Blondie

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Like many Southern Nevada residents, Blondie is a retiree who likes to spend her afternoons in and around the pool.

She's only 13, but Blondie has crammed more work and experience into those years than most people four and five times her age -- she's worked in law enforcement, social work, education and, most amazingly, was one of the responders to the Sept. 11 attacks.

Not bad for a German shepherd who was born in a meth lab.

"I figured if you're going to come from nothing, I'm going to make you into something," trainer Charlene Bruno said. "I wanted her to be famous. I wanted her to make something of herself."

Bruno, a Las Vegas resident, already had four German shepherds when she got a call from a friend who worked at an animal rescue telling her about a mangy, worm-ridden puppy that had just been seized by police from a meth lab.

She was hesitant to take on another, let alone one with so many problems.

Bruno agreed to bring Blondie home for a trial run, but after four days, was convinced that it wouldn't work out and was ready to take her back to the rescue. But on that day, almost as if she could sense what was about to happen, Blondie began to change.

"Something about her just kind of warmed my heart," Bruno said. "For those first three days, we just kind of looked at each other like, 'I don't really like you and you don't really like me, and this probably won't work.' But then, on that fourth day, she changed. She watched, she looked, she listened."

Determine to reverse Blondie's fortunes, Bruno, who had one dog trained in explosives detection, began training her. They started with protection, then worked into narcotics detection and search and rescue. The pair worked as bail bondsmen and as contractors for private detectives doing narcotics detection.

"(Blondie) loves to work," Bruno said. "She's a jack of all trades."

Though Blondie was heavily trained in search and rescue, she had never really done a job until Sept. 12, 2001, when a friend of Bruno's who worked for the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms put the two on a military transport to New York to help with search efforts at Ground Zero.

Even now, seven years later, Bruno's voice goes quiet and becomes tinged with emotion when she talks about the three days she and Blondie spent sifting through the ruins of the Twin Towers.

"It was very disconcerting, because when we got there, all there was, was soot, all there was, was rubble," Bruno said. "No one knew where to start. It was very intimidating. I felt very small."

But the pair dove in and did what they could. Bruno said Blondie became frantic as she searched -- her saliva getting everywhere and mixing with dust and soot to form a thick matte on her coat that would pull her hair away when she scratched it. By the end of the three days, the hair on her ears and paws had all been stripped away.

"It was really hard on her -- it was so overwhelming," Bruno said.

"Sometimes, she would just cross her paws and rest her head on them because she didn't know what to do."

Though they were only there for three days, Bruno said it felt like three weeks.

Blondie was never the same after that, Bruno said. Blondie developed a respiratory infection, and the cortisone injections she was taking for them damaged her liver. Bruno stopped the injections, but Blondie still gets asthma attacks.

The dog also gets nightmares. They've subsided over time, Bruno said, but they still strike on occasion and Blondie still struggles with her confidence.

"It took her from being confident to less sure of herself, to second-guessing herself and that's a horrible thing for a canine to go through," Bruno said.

Bruno said Blondie was not the only one changed by the experience.

"It humbled me in a lot of ways," she said. "I thought Blondie and I were this invincible canine team, and to find out that we weren't was really hard. I thought we'd go find people in the rubble and have all these great reunions -- but it was nothing like that. It was frustrating. It was disheartening. You realize that the blanket of security that you've had all your life -- 30 years for me, at the time -- is yanked away."

After the experience in New York, Bruno was determined to provide a happier life for Blondie. She moved from her condo on a busy street -- where Blondie would jump every time someone walked by or a bus drove past -- to a suburban home with a pool, where all of her dogs have more room. Blondie loves to swim, she said.

She got Blondie away from narcotics detection and protection and into modeling as the poster dog for Opportunity Village. She got her into therapy for developmentally disabled individuals, and the pair teaches obedience classes for Clark County Parks and Recreation.

Of all the jobs Blondie has had, Bruno said she's best at therapy.

"Dogs are not judgmental," she said. "They don't look at folks who are sick or different and pass judgment. They provide love and acceptance for people who are looking for it."

Now, Blondie spends her days taking laps in the backyard pool and relaxing in her favorite spot in the shade. After the lifetime of service she's provided, it's hard to picture any animal more deserving of such a pampered life.

And when Bruno asks her if she's ready to work, Blondie springs up and begins dutifully sniffing through the backyard. But she's not looking for bodies or drugs anymore. In retirement, she finally has time to do what every self-respecting dog should be doing.

"She's looking for cats," Bruno said.

Jeremy Twitchell can be reached at 990-8928 or jeremy.twitchell@hbcpub.com.