95th SFS bids goodbye to 'kennel king'

  • Published
  • By Senior Airman Julius Delos Reyes
  • 95th Air Base Wing Public Affairs
EDWARDS AIR FORCE BASE, Calif. --  A chorus of deafening barks reverberated inside the 95th Security Forces Squadron military working dog building. Gas, the oldest of the four dogs inside the building, barked the loudest. It seemed he was establishing his reign as the new "king of the kennel," a title he inherited from Jery. 

Jery, a 95th SFS military working dog, died Aug. 4 at the age of 10 -- or 70 in dog years. For seven years, he was stationed at Edwards performing military working dog functions, such as patrol and narcotic detection. 

"He was a fighter," said Staff Sgt. Erik Henrikson, 95th SFS MWD handler and Jery's last. "Jery's will power was above and beyond. Even though moving around was causing him pain, he still performed his duties." 

The German shepherd had been battling bad hips and arthritis since 2006. He lost his patrol certificate because of hearing loss, but still performed his narcotic detection function. 

"Basically, his body quit on him," said Tech. Sgt. Craig Young, 95th SFS kennel master. "We have to put him down because he was in way too much in pain. It is inhumane to keep him alive much longer." 

When Sergeant Young arrived here in 2006, Jery could still walk even with his problems, but he couldn't do the obstacle course. He was mobile and could still walk without too much pain -- a pain Jery suppressed with the help of dog pain killers. 

Though a canine, Jery was still treated like an Airman by the security forces. 

"He was a brother to us," Sergeant Henrikson said. "He received the respect he deserved from the people who worked with him. He would also give back attitude if you don't show him respect." 

Just like any other dog, Jery also had a dislike for cages. 

"Jery was an escape artist," Sergeant Young said. "When you'd put him back in his cage, you'd have to finesse your way. He got off his leash a few times, and we'd have to chase after him. He still owes me a pair of pants. He ripped my pants when I tried to get him inside the kennel." 

One thing Sergeant Young remembered about Jery was his table manners. As soon as Jery would finish eating, he would slap his pan causing a loud clang just like a signal that he was done.

A clang couldn't be heard anymore. Jery's medical condition took a severe turn in May. He couldn't get up or move around. He lay in one place for a long period of time. During the tragic day, the MWD staff tried to feed him but he wouldn't get up at all. 

"If you knew Jery, he would quickly get up and eat when you stuck a bowl of food in front of him," Sergeant Young said. 

The MWD staff tried to coax Jery, but he wouldn't move. A veterinary checked him out, then told the staff it's Jery's time. Extending his life would mean living his life with pain. 

"I think he knew he was going to die because he was trying to fight it," Sergeant Henrikson said. "It was very hard for all of us to watch him go down because he has been here for more than seven years." 

Crying with the 95th SFS family, the four dogs barked again. Still, Gas barked the loudest. Like a royalty, Gas seemed to be paying his respect to the former kennel king.