Chapter 3

MacGyver had been at the training center for two weeks. The days had begun to follow a predictable routine. Early in the morning, a staff member would awaken the students with a song handpicked for the day. They would take the dogs outside until they relieved, then get ready for the day. After breakfast, there was a short lecture, then everyone would pile into the big 15-passenger van for the trip into town to do an ever-increasingly difficult training walk, usually with the instructor following a few paces behind a team.

Today, the lecture was on "Intelligent Disobedience." Basically this meant that if a dog felt that obeying a command would be unsafe, the dog was not to obey the command.

Mac was intrigued. Were dogs smart enough to judge whether a command was unsafe or not? And how would the instructors test and train this concept without actual danger to the students?

Jamie explained that a staff member would drive a car too close to the student, simulating an event where a driver pulled out in front of a blind pedestrian without noticing them. If the guide team was functioning effectively, the "forward" command should seem to be more of a suggestion to the dog, and the dog should decline to obey until the way was clear.

Mac felt skeptical. Sure Puck could weave around pedestrians and stop at curbs. He had gotten used to following the dog and had learned the cues of stopping and turning. He could listen to traffic at a busy light and determine when it was time to cross. But this seemed like too much to ask an animal to do.

With curiosity, he climbed into the van and Puck hopped in after him to settle into a bony ball at his feet. Puck reached up and swiped the back of Mac's knuckles with his tongue as he had been in the habit of doing lately. Mac wasn't sure what it meant in dog language but he guessed it was all right.

The car stopped near a busy shopping mall where they had trained before. Mac recognized the smell of fried chicken at the fast food restaurant on the corner and the traffic patterns from the parking lot even before Ron announced where they were.

The late September sun shone brightly, as if reluctant to give way to winter. As usual on sunny days, the light washed out Mac's vision to nothing more than a milky glare. He climbed out of the van and adjusted Puck's harness so that it was straight on his back. He stood, leash in hand, waiting for the instructions on their route.

Each student was to walk downhill to the traffic light, turn left and cross the street, turn left again and walk back up the hill again on the other side of the street to the next light. Cross back to this side and walk down to the van across all of the entrances to the shopping mall.

Great, thought Mac. A big uncomplicated rectangle. He guessed the staff car would be at one of the mall exits. He wondered how Puck would notice it before he himself heard it.

When it was his turn, Mac directed Puck forward down the hill toward the intersection. A light breeze ruffled his too-long hair and the sun was warm on his shoulders. It was a beautiful day.

On his left, several lanes of cars passed him, heading to work. He thought he detected a row of parked cars against the curb, between himself and the traffic. Several more lanes of cars surged up the hill on the other side of the road as the light changed.

They arrived at the corner and Puck stopped at the curb. "Puck, left," commanded Mac, and lined them both up facing south to cross the street. He listened to the traffic flow then, trying to determine which light was his.

The traffic in front of him, perpendicular to his line of travel whizzed by, while the cars on his right sat idling, waiting to go. His light was red.

After thirty seconds, the cars in front of him slowed and stopped. To his right, engines surged as drivers started to go. The light had changed.

"Puck, forward," he said confidently. Puck started to step off the curb, but suddenly pulled backward, crowding his body against Mac's shins and forcing him to take a step back onto the curb and nearly toppling backward. As he did so, he felt the whoosh and suck of air as a large truck passed by only inches from his face. His hair fluttered, then settled. There had been no engine noise.

Behind him someone screamed.

There was a loud crash and screech of metal on metal and the sound of shattering glass. Brakes squealed.

As the commotion continued, Mac stepped backward until he felt the solid wall of a building at his back. Then he crouched and put his arms around the chest of the dog who had just saved his life. Puck was still tense, his ears pointed toward the crash site. He turned briefly to give Mac a quick swipe with his tongue and just as quickly turned back to watch the gathering crowd, his body rigid, ears alert.

Feet pounded on the pavement, some passing Mac. One set of footsteps stopped next to Mac.

"You ok, Mr. MacGyver?" Ron asked breathlessly.

"Yeah, what happened?" asked Mac, although he had a pretty good guess already.

"There was a truck parked on the hill. Its brakes must have given way because it started rolling just as the light turned. You stepped out in front of it...you must not have heard it coming since the engine wasn't running," explained Ron.

"Puck pulled me back," said Mac, feeling stunned.

"Yeah, this certainly wasn't what we had in mind to demonstrate intelligent disobedience," said Ron wryly.

A siren wailed in the distance, its pitch rising as it came closer.

"Is anyone hurt?" asked Mac, gesturing to the intersection where he had heard the crash happen.

"The truck rolled into a van," said Ron. "No one was in the truck, of course, and it was just the back end of the van that was hit. The driver doesn't appear to be hurt."

Relieved, Mac turned away from the intersection toward the parked Training Center van. He could hear two police sirens as the cars pulled up to the crash site. The police would redirect traffic and determine the cause of the accident, and then things would be cleaned up and life would move on.

"I'm just going to take a minute," he told Ron, and sat on the running board of the empty van, Puck's leash in his hands. The dog stood next to his knees, leaning protectively inward against Mac as if to say, "I gotcha, Pal."

Mac discovered that he was shaking slightly inside. He'd brushed death a number of times, but this felt different. The truck had been absolutely silent, rolling down the hill toward him, which rendered it invisible to him. Always before, he had seen danger coming and been able to duck, but this time, he had not even known.

A wave of gratitude washed over him toward the dog at his feet. Gone was the feeling that he didn't need a dog, that he would do fine with his cane and cleverness. He was grateful for Pete's insistence now, too.

He set his hand on Puck's head. "Thank you," he said.

From that day on, Mac sensed a change in Puck. His attitude, always businesslike, now had a snappiness to it that almost made Mac smile. Of course, the trainers had insisted that Puck be examined by the resident vet to make sure he was unhurt. They watched him carefully for a few days, worried that he might show psychological damage from the trauma of the incident as well. Some dogs, they told Mac, could no longer work after a close call like that. They were just too scared.

Puck showed no such problems. He was as eager to work as ever, but Mac noticed a slight protectiveness that hadn't been there before. Puck looked to MacGyver for praise instead of checking for the trainer's reaction.

For himself, Mac found that he trusted the dog far more than he had before. The slight hesitancy he had felt before was gone, and it showed in a smoother gait and better posture. They fell into step easier and walking began to feel like flying as they strode along in easy, effortless rhythm.

The last week of training seemed to pass so quickly that before Mac was aware, there was only one day left until graduation.

Everyone gathered in the common room that afternoon, but instead of the usual announcement about walks and routes, Ron surprised the group by telling them that it was the day the puppy raisers got to come say goodbye to their dogs.

Mac felt startled. He knew that Puck had been raised by a family in Pennsylvania, but he hadn't given them a lot of thought. Of course it would have been hard for them to say goodbye. Of course they would want to meet the person who would be working with Puck. Mac just didn't feel ready. He felt suddenly protective of Puck. Would he like his puppy raisers more than Mac? Would he even remember them? Would he feel sad at leaving them?

As families arrived and greeted dogs and handlers, they drifted off to find semi-private corners in which to chat. Mac waited tensely.

"Hi Pucky-boy!" cried a young boy's voice and Mac felt Puck give a shiver of anticipation, although he was on Down-Stay and he didn't rise.

"It's ok, boy. You can get up to say hi," said Mac, and immediately upon being released, Puck leaped to his feet, wagging furiously.

A small body joined the dog on the floor, hugging and laughing.

"Hello, I'm Mrs. Carter," said a woman who had approached.

"MacGyver," he said with a smile, extending his hand.

"This is my son, Jeff," said Mrs. Carter. "You need to say hello to Mr. MacGyver, too, not just Puck, you know," she said gently to her excited son.

"Oh, hi Mr. MacGyver," said Jeff. "Sorry, Mom. I'm just so glad to see Puck!"

Mac grinned at the boy. It was hard not to.

"Puck's a great dog," he said.

"He sure is," agreed Jeff enthusiastically. "He was the cutest fuzzy black puppy too. I taught him how to sit!"

"You started him well," said Mac, smiling at the eager boy.

"He always chewed up my socks though," admitted Jeff.

"You know, he has gotten a couple of mine, too," said Mac.

"You're not mad, are ya?" asked Jeff.

"No, I'm not mad. He is still a great dog," said Mac.

At that point, one of the staff came to let them know that the photographer was ready for them. They would get a group photo for the Carter family to take home to remember Puck, and Mac would receive a professional one of himself and Puck to use as needed in the future.

They sat for the photo, although Jeff had trouble holding still.

"I'm sure glad Puck got a good person," said Jeff, and Mac smiled again at the boy.

"Well I'll try and be a good person for him," he said. "I already know he has changed my life."

"Mine too," agreed Jeff seriously, and Mrs. Carter chuckled.

"Time to go now, Love," she said. "Say goodbye to Pucky."

"Goodbye Pucky," said Jeff with a last hug. "I'm so glad you have a man to take care of. You do good, ok?"

Mac smiled as they left, grateful for all they had done to help gift him with this marvelous dog, this partner that he hadn't even known he needed.

Graduation the next day was solemn. It was held in the Common room since the weather outside had turned blustery. Family and friends had been invited to attend, and Mac felt touched that Pete came to sit next to him.

Students were invited to speak if they wanted. Mac was surprised when Alex raised his hand and walked to the podium.

Mac had such a strong mental picture of the gangly teen with a mop of dark hair that he felt as though he was actually seeing him. Conversations and personality filled in so completely for visual detail that he hardly remember he had never actually seen the kid.

"Uhm, hi, my name's Alex," he said. "I just wanted to say how grateful I am to get Hercules. I grew up going to a school for the Blind and, don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for them but I never felt like I could really do anything, ya know? Not myself. I love my family and I'm glad they're here supporting me today and glad they let me get a dog because I feel like it's gonna open up so many opportunities for me. I'm just so excited to go where I want to go and do what I want to do and I think it's Hercules that made that possible."

Students clapped and cheered. Mac heard a few sniffles. He found that he had to blink back tears as well. Alex had really grown and found himself during the four weeks of training.

Mac raised his hand, and when called, walked to the podium. "I'll be honest," he said with a grin, "I didn't think I needed a dog." Laughter rippled around the audience. "And Puck certainly didn't need me!" More laughter. "But I think we have both found out just how much we do need one another." The audience applauded enthusiastically and Pete clapped him on the shoulder as he sat down.

"This doesn't mean I always think you're right, you know," he whispered to Pete, who laughed.