He Almost Always Gets His Human

In the shadowy dog-eat-dog world of nighttime police manhunts, armed confrontations and lonely patrols, Officer Doug Roller has a partner he can count on.

He’s one who watches Roller’s back with a disciplined eye, who comes to his aid without fear or question. Better yet, he’s not choosy about break time doughnut shops and doesn’t ramble on, cry baby-like, about his latest divorce.

Sure, his breath isn’t always as fresh as a petunia. And sometimes he steams up the Los Angeles police cruiser windows with his unabated hot panting.

Roller’s partner is named Keno. He’s a German shepherd.

Go get ‘em, boy.

Forget Tom Hanks in “Turner and Hooch.” Ditto for Jim Belushi in the flick “K-9.” This man-dog team is the real thing, one of a dozen human-canine duos that hit the streets of the Valley and elsewhere with one sure-fire credo: When it comes to police work, dog truly is man’s best friend.

Roller is 35, a 10-year police veteran from Los Angeles; Keno is 8 1/2. He grew up in L. A. too. Don’t bother asking him about his job, though, Roller says. As far as he’s concerned, there’s only one way to explain it.

Ruff.

Roller and Keno spend much of their time in the cruiser. When he’s not slurping from the water bucket in the back seat, Keno’s always wide-eyed, with that teeth-flashing grin that makes dogs look like good friends.

But don’t let the smile fool you. Dogs make for even better cops.

“In some ways, he’s better than having a human partner,” Roller says. “He does his job, no matter what. If I get in trouble, I don’t have to worry that he’s not going to be covering my back.

“With a human partner, there might be that split second of doubt, that question in their mind. With Keno, nothing stops him. He operates on blind faith.”

The pair have been riding together for more than five years now. In that time, Keno has shown his partner that, like some wily cat, he’s got nine lives.

Several times, the dog has defied fate to bounce back from sure-death scenarios. Like the time he was hit by a suspect’s car and dragged 20 feet. When he finally came to rest, Keno did what any car-chasing pooch would do: He got up and started barking.

Or the night Roller sent the dog into a pitch-black room atop a downtown theater--one that had no floor. Luckily, Keno landed on some metal pipes before being rescued by Roller as he dangled 100 feet above the theater floor.

And then there was the time during a search of a darkened warehouse that Keno fell into a 20-foot-deep pit. Nearly missing becoming impaled on several pointed bars, he landed feet-first in a trash can.

“I looked down and there he was, smiling at me with his paws on the edge of the can. It was a perfect landing. An inch or two either way and he would have been dead.”

On breaks, Keno doesn’t moan like many uniformed partners about the stomach acid he got from the Italian food the night before. All he wants is some fresh grass to roam, maybe a fire hydrant.

“When we take a break,” Roller says, “he gets a chance to wander around the grass and sniff and smell and just be a dog.”

Doug Roller has learned a lot about police work from his four-legged partner.

“He’s got such a good sense of smell and hearing, it’s amazing,” he says. “He’s just made me more observant of the world around me. Like he is.”

For a canine cop, Keno is getting on in years. He’ll be retiring soon.

But that won’t necessarily mean the breakup of this team.

Because since the day they met, Keno has lived in a kennel outside Roller’s house. He has played with his kids, lolled away the hot weekend days on his linoleum kitchen floor.

“When Keno retires, I want to keep him,” Roller says. “He’s grown up with us. He’s become part of the family. At home, he’s like a big baby. He loves the attention and affection he gets.”

He’s a good dog.

But on the streets, Keno is still all business.

“If we’re searching for somebody,” Roller says, “he’ll find ‘em.”