Features Behavioural Sciences
The bond you can’t explain: Losing a police dog

Police and military forces have used canines since the Middle Ages to track criminals and safeguard property. In fourteenth-century Scotland, bloodhounds were known as Slough dogs. The word sleuth is derived from slough. By the early twentieth century, dog handling became a more formal part of law enforcement.

The U.S. National War Dog Cemetery is a memorial to war dogs situated at the Naval Base on the island of Guam. It is the first official war dog monument in the United States. The cemetery honours the dogs—primarily Doberman Pinschers—that were killed in service with the United States Marine Corps during the Second Battle of Guam in 1944.

Over time, the role of canines in service has evolved — not just in their tactical importance but also in how their contributions and bonds with handlers are understood. While dogs were once viewed solely as tools for law enforcement or warfare, conflicts like the Vietnam War revealed the depth and personal nature of the connection between handler and dog. This change in perspective eventually led to significant shifts in how military dogs are treated after their service.

Studies have shown that the bond between police handlers and their dogs can be even stronger than the bond between regular pet owners and their dogs. Canine unit officers often work with the same dog for the duration of the dog’s service, which strengthens trust and communication. Dogs that are consistently handled and involved in daily training or shared tasks have been found to be more obedient, less aggressive and better able to manage stress (Anglin, 2023).

After 12 years of loyal service, PSD Devi is remembered by her handler, TC Brian Andrews, for a career marked by excellence and heart. Photo: Toronto Police Service

This bond, while professional in function, is deeply emotional in reality, and when it’s broken, the loss is profound.

During the Vietnam War, the U.S. military did not fully grasp the bond between handlers and their dogs. Dog handlers played a crucial role in the conflict, working alongside their canine partners in various roles, including scouting, sentry duty and tracking. These teams saved thousands of lives, but sadly, most of the dogs were left behind when the war ended. Classified as equipment, many were either euthanized or abandoned in Vietnam.

Leaving their dogs behind caused immense emotional distress for many handlers, and some chose to stay for additional tours rather than leave their canine companions.

Due to the efforts of Vietnam War dog handlers, Robby’s Law was passed in 2000, ensuring that adoptable military dogs are no longer euthanized after their service.

When the author (Peter Collins) served in Afghanistan with the Canadian Armed Forces, he befriended handlers and their dogs. The handlers were always, as per protocol, one military rank lower than their dog.

There is a part of this job that few outside the K9 world truly understand. We talk a lot about courage, teamwork and trust, but what we rarely talk about is loss.

On July 1, 2025, Toronto Police Service felt that loss in the worst conceivable way when we said goodbye to TPS Police Service Dog (PSD) Doc.

Doc was only three years old. He passed away after a sudden battle with cancer, an illness that crept in quietly and took him far too soon. For most people, it is easy to forget that our police dogs are not just tools or partners; they are family. For their handlers, they are everything.

They run toward danger without hesitation, and sometimes, tragically, they don’t come home.

Sergeant Andrew Haynes understood that bond better than most. For two years, Doc was his constant companion. They trained together, deployed together, and went home together. It’s a unique kind of relationship and hard to describe unless you’ve lived it. The dog doesn’t just work with you; they live with you and become part of your family. Your kids grow up around them. They’re in the backyard, part of the daily routine, part of your life at home, and in between all of that, you rely on them with your life. That bond begins from day one. You meet this young, untested dog, and together you embark on an intensive four- to six-month training program. You take this blank slate and help shape them into a high-performing police dog—tracking suspects, finding missing persons, clearing buildings and locating evidence. It’s exhausting. It’s frustrating. It’s demanding. But it’s also how that bond is built: through time, patience and total trust.

The author (Michael Quinn) has also felt this loss. Several years ago, his first PSD, Odin, died from cancer at the age of six. It was devastating. You think you’re prepared for it, but you’re not. Losing a dog like that, especially one you have built your career and your life around, hits in a way that is hard to explain to anyone who hasn’t experienced it.

Sgt. Brandon Smith with PSD Bingo, who gave his life in the line of duty. Forever remembered for his courage and sacrifice. Photo: Toronto Police Service

Unfortunately, loss in this line of work is not always from illness. In July 2023, PSD Bingo was shot and killed while searching for a murder suspect. It was a stark reminder that these dogs don’t just protect their human partners; they place themselves in harm’s way for the sake of public safety. They run toward danger without hesitation, and sometimes, tragically, they don’t come home.

On July 9, 2025, we also said goodbye to PSD Devi. She began her service with TPS in May 2015 as an explosive detection dog alongside her handler, Training Constable Brian Andrews. Devi was just a few months away from a well-earned retirement when she passed away of natural causes. Her career spanned a decade, marked by numerous deployments and contributions to public safety that many will never witness, but her absence is deeply felt by all who worked with her. She was steady, reliable and an absolute professional; her passing marked the end of a remarkable chapter.

These losses are shared by every handler who has gone through that heartbreak. It’s about watching a tough, capable police officer stand by their best friend, helpless in the face of illness or violence. It is about seeing a family lose a member, a unit lose a teammate, and a city lose a protector.

Doc’s time on the road was too short, but his impact was large. From his first day of training, he showed heart, drive and the quiet determination that all our K9s possess. One moment that stood out was during a track with the Emergency Task Force (ETF) through multiple backyards and streets. As Doc pulled up a driveway, the backyard ahead was dense with trees and shrubs. His partner, Sgt. Haynes, let him off his leash, and Doc, true to his training and instincts, leapt a chain-link fence and quite literally stood on the suspect until ETF and Haynes could get there to secure them both. That is the kind of dog he was: fearless, determined and always doing exactly what we asked of him.

And when he left us, he left a hole that words cannot really fill.

For the public, police dogs are heroes. For us, they are that and so much more. They are our police partners, our protectors, our responsibility. When we lose them, we grieve like any other pet owner, but they are more than just a family member. The bond between a handler and their dog is everlasting. It is one of the most powerful parts of policing.

Rest easy, Doc, Devi and Bingo. You have earned it.

References

• Anglin, J. C. (2023). Down the leash: A phenomenological study of K9 officers’ stresses and rewards(Doctoral dissertation, Indiana State University). Sycamore Scholars. Accessed at https://scholars.indianastate.edu/etds/794.

Michael Quinn is a staff sergeant with the Toronto Police Dog Service and has been with TPS since 1996. He can be reached at michael.quinn@tps.ca.

Dr. Peter Collins was the Operational Forensic Psychiatrist with the Ontario Provincial Police for 30 years. He has been a member of the Toronto Police Emergency Task Force Crisis Negotiation team since 1992. He can be reached at peter.collins@utoronto.ca.