When Bear stopped dead in his tracks, his nose turned towards some undergrowth, it was clear something was wrong. It was November last year – Bear’s 12th birthday, and his first proper walk after weeks of taking it easy while he recovered from serious surgery. The South Downs stretched before us. The sun had set and the temperature was dropping.
Bear is a retired police dog – a huge, 48kg German shepherd. He entered the force as a puppy, then spent six years in active service, working alongside firearms units as well as tracking suspects and missing people.
He retired in March 2020. There’s no set timetable for when police dogs stop working, but they will often let you know they’ve had enough. It’s intense work: very physical, often at night, in dangerous environments. His handler couldn’t keep him, so Bear came to live with me and my husband – both retired police officers ourselves – for a well-earned rest.
In his career, Bear faced physical challenges, which caught up with him after retirement. In August 2023, he suddenly lost the use of his back legs. Scans revealed four herniated discs in his spine, which required surgery. It was touch and go, but his resilience amazed us.
He underwent weeks of physiotherapy and still moves with a slight wobble. Bear’s surgeries were expensive, but luckily, a great charity that supports retired police dogs stepped in to help.
Then, in late 2023, Bear developed testicular tumours. We braced for the worst, but they were benign. It still meant more major precautionary surgery, so by November 2024, he still hadn’t been farther than the garden for weeks. But, for a birthday treat, we decided we’d take him for a walk.
We took him without our other dog, so that Bear could go at his own pace. It’s quite exposed along the Sussex Way, a path with dense areas of woodland and undergrowth. We reached the top and admired the view, but it was getting dark and cold.
As we came back down the track, we debated whether we should go straight back to the car, or give it another 10 minutes. Bear was enjoying himself, so we carried on.
It was along that path that Bear suddenly stopped dead in front of us. He stepped backwards, completely focused on a spot in front of him, then dragged me towards the undergrowth. Cautiously, I entered a patch of dense brambles, wondering what I was about to find. There were no noises or indication that anything was amiss. I wondered if Bear had made a mistake.
Then I saw an older man on the ground. He couldn’t get up and seemed to be in distress. He had a few scratches on him and was confused and cold, but he could talk and made it clear he was very happy to see us. He told us he’d gone for a walk and got lost, then tripped over and couldn’t get up.
I called the police and coordinated a meeting point. It was a struggle to get him up – I wasn’t sure if he was badly hurt. We supported him as we walked to the nearest car park, Bear leading the way. It was dark and cold – just 2C. If Bear hadn’t found him, it’s unlikely he would have survived the night.
It transpired that the man had been missing for hours. He lived locally and his family had reported it when he hadn’t come home. Officers had deployed drones and a helicopter, and conducted foot searches, but the terrain was difficult, so he hadn’t been found. Without Bear’s instincts, we would have walked straight past him.
When we reached the car park, the officers were already there, as was one of the man’s relatives, who rushed to meet him. Before climbing into the car, the man turned back to thank us one more time. Bear, however, was unfazed. Once he’d done his bit, he lay down for a belly rub.
That night, Bear enjoyed a birthday steak, although he had to share it with our other dog, Koda.
Today, Bear’s retirement is about living his best life. He loves walks, lounging in bed and snuggling up to watch breakfast TV.
I wonder what he might say if he could talk. I’m sure he’d brush off his birthday heroics, saying, “I was just doing my job.” He didn’t choose to be a police dog, but he gave his all to the role.
