We have a saying as K-9 officers - "What goes down the leash, comes up the leash." In other words, what you are with your canine partner he becomes.
   So my hands are his friends - heart and soul. Training a dog to perform a duty as serious as those faced by an officer in the line of duty can't depend on the dog's loyalty to a bag of kibbles.
   When Beaufort is called, it's my voice and love he responds to - not a reward found in a treats bag. I'm the one that needs his help - not the bag of treats.
   I play with him, train him and reward him with my voice, my love, and my hands giving him the rewards of acceptance and praise. Which has to come from your heart - he has to feel it, especially if he is to be as intuitively sensitive as he needs to be as a Service Dog for PTSD.
   You can to a degree train him to be responsive to the outward gestures that come upon you when memories take you into dark places. But a good Service Dog isn't just your servant - he's your companion, and much of what you communicate won't be readily noticed by others. If it goes that far, the dog isn't getting it. And neither are you.
   I remember one evening when a sniper took down one of our patrols, and my patrol dog and I had to flush him out. The building was abandoned and without power - the hallways totally black. I could only read his alerts through the leash - and it was a subtle, quiet exchange out of necessity, with hardly a movement between us. Yet he was still able to tell me where the gunman was - and kept me from making the very serious mistake of an uncontrolled encounter.
   So Beaufort and I grow together in much the same way. We share nearly anything that we can, from food to floor space,

learning and strengthening our bond. Until the day we realize that we move as a unit - and defend each other beyond friendship.

                                Then he's a true Service Dog.