Disclaimer: Nope, can't truthfully say that I own Chips the War Dog. Can't truthfully say that I'm making money off the posting of this story, either.

A/N: Originally completed in the end of 2008 or the beginning of 2009. Obscure, huh? I liked the friendship/enemyship between Danny and Mitch, and used this story as an exuse to see more of that. Review, if you can think of anything to say?

Give Him Jojo

The door to the kennels flew open to admit a fleeing Mitch and slammed shut behind him just as quickly. Danny was strongly reminded of himself, back when he'd first come to work "doggie duty." When Mitch noticed Danny watching him, he glared at him and growled,

"Four down, how many to go, Stauffer? Ain't you got a dog in this place with half a brain?"

Danny sighed; Mitch always had a nasty comment to offer. "Corporal Lloyd ordered me to assign you a new partner," he replied neutrally. "El Gigante is washing out of the program."

Mitch's eyes narrowed in suspicion, and Danny could tell that he was jumping to a conclusion.

"You knew he was washing out before you gave 'im to me," he said slowly. Danny said nothing. Mitch's accusation was mostly right, but Danny wasn't about to clue the hot-headed redhead in on that. Mitch gritted his teeth and scowled in a way that was very reminiscent of the animal he had just been working with—he realized that he'd been had. "Well, you've had your fun," he hissed, turning his back on Danny. "Time to put away your dog." He yanked open the door and stepped quickly back. Danny swallowed hard as the pounding of paws came closer. El Gigante, snarling aggressively, burst into the room. Laying eyes on Mitch, the dog bolted straight for him.

"Back off!" Mitch snarled, raising his fist threateningly. The dog halted in his mad rush and hesitated. His beady black eyes shifted and spotted Danny, who gulped. The Doberman made its way toward him, stiff-legged and growling. Danny edged backwards tensely.

"Aw, what'sa matter, Stauffer, are you afraid of little old El Gigante?" Mitch drawled. Danny had no time to answer as the dog suddenly barreled towards him. Backed up against the wall, Danny held up his hands to shield himself, although he knew he didn't have a prayer against those vicious white fangs.

All of a sudden, from the stall on Danny's left, came a throaty, challenging bark. Chips stood with his nose pressed against the metal webbing of his kennel. Danny was amazed to hear the gentle dog growling. El Gigante, distracted now, swivelled to face Chips. Both Doberman and German shepherd faced one another, their lips peeled back to show their teeth. Danny raced across the empty space between the two rows of stalls: this might be his only chance. He snatched his trusty trash can lid from where it was propped against the wall. As El Gigante rushed at him to attack, Danny held up the lid to fend him off and reached behind himself to open the door to the Doberman's new quarters. Pushing the dog's head with the lid, Danny maneuvered him into the kennel and slammed and latched the door.

"Thanks, buddy," he whispered, turning to grin at his four-legged pal. Chips let his long tongue hang out and wagged his tail. Mitch walked over to him, his expression sour.

"Lucky your mutt was here to save your hide," he muttered. He seemed disappointed that Danny had managed to escape without a scratch.

"Look, Mitch, no one has to deal with him anymore," Danny pointed out impatiently. "He's shipping out tomorrow."

Mitch took a threatening step forward. "You won't be able to use him in your games anymore; is that it?" he demanded.

"For your information, we thought he had a chance with you!" Danny cried in frustration. He sighed and added in a lower voice, "We thought that if anyone could handle him, you could." Mitch seemed momentarily taken aback.

"No one can handle that dog," he declared finally.

"That's why he's going to the pound tomorrow," Danny told him softly.

"Good riddance," Mitch grunted under his breath. But Danny saw him glancing at a still-growling El Gigante with something almost like pity in his eyes. Maybe Mitch wasn't so bad after all.

Danny led the way over to the golden retriever's kennel. "This is Jojo," he announced. Mitch stood before the dog, unimpressed.

"Hey, mutt!" he barked fiercely. "You got what it takes to be a soldier?"

Danny was proud of the way the dog stared calmly at Mitch with those gentle brown eyes. Jojo sat in his kennel, sedate and unperturbed by Mitch's outburst, wagging his tail in a polite gesture of friendliness.

"Guess that means 'yes,'" Danny concluded mildly.

"We'll see," Mitch retorted. He let the golden retriever out of his kennel and slapped his knee as he headed back outside. "Come on, Jojo. You'd better not be like the rest," he warned his new partner with a scathing glance in Danny's direction. But Danny had a hunch that the two of them would work just fine together. One was easy-going, the other fiery, it was true. Still, Danny suspected that the army was in for a formidable new pair of soldiers before long.

^The End^