Nine Rounds, One Dead K9, and a Decision that forged me.

How the FORGE principles were born — and why I didn't have a name for any of it until thirty-five years later.

It was a hot summer dayshift. Second watch, almost noon. And I was thinking about Chinese food.

My partner and I had been split into separate one-man cars — the usual departmental move to make day shift look extra impressive to the public. We had plans for lunch. My stomach was already growling.

I’m telling you that not because it matters to the story. I’…