A day in the life of Major, the retired Toronto police dog

It’s been six months since former Sgt. Derrick Gaudet and his fourlegged partner Major left Toronto police, and the quieter life has been an adjustment for both.

Accustomed to a high-stress job and routine training, Major is coming around to a simpler, pace but it’s taking some getting used to. “You can’t turn a switch off a police dog,” Gaudet said.

A day in the life of a cadaver dog trying to ease his way into retirement:

8 a.m. Major wakes up after a long sleep.

Nights are usually uneventful, though sometimes the dog will bark if he detects something outside.

One night, after Gaudet scolded him for a midnight outburst, he checked the exterior camera. Sure enough, Major had been barking at some troublemakers outside who’d been trying to open up Gaudet’s car.

“He can hear stuff outside that I can’t,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to be someone trying to break into my house.”

8:30 a.m. Major and Gaudet head out for the first of their three daily walks. The strolls are needed to substitute for the exercise Major once got on the job, and for more indelicate reasons. Major won’t do his business in the backyard, his way to guarantee a walk, Gaudet thinks.

Because of Major’s size, strength and the chance he might give chase at a squirrel or the sight of someone wearing a backpack, Gaudet is the only one in his family who can take him on the leash. They’ll walk for at least two to three kilometres each time. “I’m wearing out sneakers,” Gaudet said.

10 a.m. Major gets his breakfast and medication, then he lays around for a good few hours, Gaudet said.

Because he’s a larger dog, he doesn’t want to do much after eating. He’ll find a spot on the floor or the bed to crash.

2 p.m. Major will head to the door. He knows it’s time for his afternoon walk.

Gaudet might take him to a park and, if no one else is around, let him off the leash. But Major often needs encouragement to run, preferring to sniff around — “he just wants to find something,” Gaudet said. Major still picks up items and brings them back to Gaudet, including scarves, gloves and hats.

Among his favourite items these days: discarded masks.

“They have a lot odour on them,” Gaudet said.

3 p.m. More food, more pills, more naps.

Major will sometimes crash in the family room near the TV or, now that it’s warmer, park himself outside in the shade of the backyard, which is a bit torn up from him chasing rabbits.

10 p.m. Major stands up, stretches and lets Gaudet know it’s time for their night walk.

“This is 365 days a year — rain, snow, sleet, doesn’t matter. I have to take him out,” Gaudet said. “Those three walks are his life.”