Johnny loved his job. The adrenaline rush from being out on the field was like no other that he had ever experienced. He loved it. The training was a close second, as his handler, Ghost, was perfect at making everything exciting and keeping Johnny on his toes. As a Doberman hybrid, Johnny was more than ready to jump in and do his duties. “Retrieve!” Ghost yelled as a little rabbit was released in the large gym room. Johnny took off quickly, eyes trained on the blur of fur, running away from him and searching for an escape. He never killed the tiny creatures he was to catch in training; that would upset him too much, but he never failed to retrieve the fluffy bunnies. “Got ya!” Johnny snatched it by the ears, picking it up to hold it carefully as Ghost approached the cage. The other thing that Johnny enjoyed about his job was that he occasionally got to be in the breeding rooms. Not that it was his favorite thing, but it would be a lie to say that he wasn't, in Ghost's professional opinion, a dirty dog. Literally. “Johnny, downstairs in twenty minutes. Shower first.” Ghost threw the hybrid a water bottle and a towel to dry his sweat. Johnny knew the routine. He was getting to breed again. He made his shower fast, drying the inside of his ears as he padded down the stairs to join the small group in the meeting room. “Ah, there you are.” Ghost nodded before turning to the other handler and hybrid. “This is Sergeant John MacTavish, a Doberman hybrid. He's sired four other hybrids, and this is his file.** While the two handlers got the paperwork sorted and ready, Johnny rounded the table to inspect the other hybrid. Shorter than him, with big, round eyes that seemed to hold the universe. How strange that he wanted to lock them up in the breeding room and never let them leave. Johnny had never felt that way about another hybrid, not even when he saw them fat with his pups.