Hero Handlers:

Profiling the Spectacular Jason Burnett and His Fantastic Kiwi K9

“Man’s best friend” is a figure of speech that everyone has heard before and generally accepts as fact. However, societies across the globe are beginning to recognize what the men and women holding the leash, the canine handler community, have known all along— handlers are Heroes. This is the reason other first and second responder communities, such as LE (Law enforcement), AR (Amateur radio), and the ADA (American Dental Association) refer to the canine handler community as the HC, or Hero Community. Few handlers are skilled enough to work the most unique and specialized canine breed on the planet, the Mediterranean Kiwi Hound, and the few who can, find themselves the envy of those who cannot. One such handler leading the pack of elite heroes, is the San Antonio collar carrying man-behind-the-Kiwi-leash, Mr. Jason Burnett.

I first heard about Mr. Burnett in while living in Lakewood, Washington, an old military town just outside Joint Base Lewis-McCord. My wife, Chezarae Courts, had secured a position as an Explosives Detection Canine Handler with the nation’s most prestigious canine program, and as one can imagine, our dinner-talk naturally turned into canine-conversation.

I’m still not completely familiar with all HC jargon, but at the time I kept hearing things like, “We worked on the Burnett Technique today,” or “I got to Burnett a checkpoint this afternoon,” or “the Burnett rule says that…” Common sense told me that for a rule to be named after a single person, that person must be an impressive specimen of intellect and ingenuity. Little did I know then, how much Mr. Burnett was, in fact, an impressive specimen or how significant his role would be to my own family’s journey.

After a few years in the HC, my wife was given the opportunity to relocate to San Antonio, Texas. I’m a native Texan so I was intrigued at the possibility of moving back home, however, we had begun to establish roots in Washington. We had a nice home in a great neighborhood, our kids were attending in-person school again, post-pandemic, and I had a killer job. Yanking up the roots was something we would have to talk about, but almost immediately, I realized this was something we needed to do.

The HC is small. It’s an elite group of folks, and when her peers in San Antonio heard that my wife was “considering” accepting the offer, she was bombarded with emails, text messages, and calls letting her know how crazy it was to consider anything more than whether she should bring the rest of the family along. She was reminded again and again, “You’ll get a chance to work with Burnett, directly.” Enough was said. We packed up everything, sold our house, and moved back to Texas. I’ll let you know now, so you can sit back and just enjoy Mr. Burnett’s profile: he has been all that was promised and more.

Mr. Jason Burnett

When I decided to do a profile on the HC, I knew I had to start with Mr. Burnett. It wasn’t very hard to uncover why he is considered the community’s azimuth. He’s fostered a storied career, which began years before joining the nation’s most prestigious canine program. His journey began as an adolescent model for motorcycle advertisements in Missouri. Unfortunately, the Missouri market for male motorcycle models (without handlebar mustaches) was in decline during the early 80’s. Despite the fun he was having as a model, he realized it wasn’t going to take him where he wanted to go. Inspired by the 1986 classic, Iron Eagle, he enlisted in the military as a security specialist.

He held various positions during his time in uniformed service that were critical to national security and global stability including: Gate Guard, Base Identification Verification Specialist, Automobile Speed Analyst, and the Uniformed Services Attaché for Cultural Culinary Acquisitions, specializing in Breakfast Tacos. This period was extremely influential and shifted the trajectory of his life. Three passions had now emerged— modeling, breakfast tacos, and canines— and his awareness of this marked what he refers to as his “caltrop of joy.”

In addition to accepting an occasional modelling gig, he became an amateur breakfast taco competitive eater, and used most of his leave to travel around the Southwest United States and compete. He still holds records in two South Texas Breakfast Taco Eating competitive categories: fastest breakfast taco (0.97 seconds) and most breakfast tacos in three minutes (108). However, it was within the canine community that the legend was born. He became a military working dog (MWD) handler just after earning his first big taco trophy, but would go on to become a MWD trainer, and eventually earn the distinguished title of MWD course instructor. He began spending more and more time with the canines and volunteered most of his free time working at the kennels. His first claim to actual fame was garnered from his development of the Burnett Brush™. This was a new grooming protocol for painters, a term the HC uses when referring to canines that defecate in their kennels while spinning in a circular motion. With the uniformed services’ acceptance of this protocol firmly established, Mr. Burnett was awarded the Joint Canine Achievement Medal, and the few nay-sayers and detractors that remained were silenced forever.

He wouldn’t stop there. Mr. Burnett still holds the uniformed service record for longline leash control with a MWD at just over 187’. He is on record asserting that 150’ or more allows the dog to “tap into to pre-domestication.” Outside of uniformed service he modified the Burnett Brush™ protocol and developed a training program specifically designed for civilian dog lovers. He holds patents on the Burnett Brush Buddy™ and Butt Buddy™, two protocol aids which advertisements claim, “are so simple and effective that your baby can hold a bottle in one hand and their Butt Buddy™ in the other.”

I met with one of the senior employees that has the pleasure of working with him daily, Mr. Whidby. I wanted to get a sense of what Mr. Burnett was like on the clock but outside of the spotlight. Mr. Whidby had nothing but good things to say. In addition to completing both of Mr. Burnett’s training programs for his dogs at home, Mr. Whidby offered an anecdote about Mr. Burnett which says it all.

“He’s like a national treasure, like the original copy of the Constitution, or the Marines, or something. We don’t just let anyone look at him, no one gets to actually touch him, and when we need to go off leash on a [explicative], we send him in.”

He’s like the Constitution, I thought to myself— I had to meet Mr. Burnett. Eventually, we were able to me meet at his personal canine training facility. I arrived expecting the usual kennel noises and smell, but what I discovered was quite refreshing.  All I heard were birds and wind, and all I smelled was freshly cut oak.

It was an uncharacteristically cold morning, and though bird songs were everywhere and extremely loud, there was another sound— a whistle or beep— a combination of the two, really. It was a triplet called in rapid succession, “Whee. Whee. Whee.” They were short crisp audible commands where the long e was cut off prematurely. They were confusing to one’s natural senses and were unlike anything that I had ever heard before. They stopped abruptly, and I heard the gate begin to open. A tall, weathered man stepped from behind the gate. He was dressed in faded jeans and had a plaid shirt and I could see the steam coming off the top of his head. It appeared like he was affecting the cold, not the other way around. He extended his right hand.

“Jason Burnett. Good morning,” he said in low confident tone. Before we finished shaking hands, he continued. “You must be Mr. Courts.” I pleaded with him to call me Aaron, and he echoed the request.  I thanked him for taking time to speak with me, and he invited me into the canine training facility and offered me some coffee. I respectfully declined the coffee, not wanting the caffeine to compound my excitement and make me seem nervous, then he led me to a small seating area in the sun. I must admit, I don’t do a lot of interviews, and fumbled through this one, but Mr. Burnett was a pro. I could tell that he was the sort of person comfortable in front of a crowd, a camera, or a journalist (though I wouldn’t dare refer to myself as one). That skill was honed, no doubt, during his modeling days, and in his case, hadn’t appeared to fade with age. He could do a full spread as a trike model for Long Tooth Riders Magazine or Hardley’s Silver Riders triennial Labor Day television special, and probably still turn heads.

Just then, two dogs ran past us fast as lightening, moving more like Orca, chasing a seal, than dogs sniffing out vermin. Their muzzles were pressed so close to the ground that they lefts circular trails in the sand. Then there was a muffled squeak and a frenzy of action and grunts and huffs, and then a shorter “whee” sound made by one of the dogs.

Mr. Burnett indicated to look in that direction with a nod, then let out a piercing call. “Whee!” The sound cut through the air, and both canines ceased the frenzied attack and popped to a sitting position. The larger of the two maintained its front left paw in a position just outside what looked natural, and then I realized it was pinning something to the ground. Mr. Burnett gave a second short “whee” and the smaller dog lowered its muzzle to the larger one’s paw. It took a few quick sniffs then gently nudged the paw. The larger dog lifted it slightly and the companion snatched the creature before it could escape. The sense of urgency was unnecessary; the creature was limp and lifeless.

With a third “whee,” the smaller dog walked to where we were and sat himself directly in front of Mr. Burnett. The larger dog took a second to cover the kill zone like a predatory dog might cover their own experiment in the wild, and then sat beside its companion. It looked at Mr. Burnett and waited to be acknowledge. Mr. Burnett nodded, then without adjusting its position, the dog began to scan the area for more prey. Mr. Burnett offered a second nod to the t smaller dog, still cradling its prize between sharp curved teeth, and it laid the prey at Mr. Burnett’s, then unceremoniously joined the larger dog’s stationary reconnaissance of the area.

“What did I just see, and what did they kill? It looks like a…”

Before I could finish my observation, he said, “It’s a Kiwi Bird, and they are the most recent arrivals to the facility. That’s Carp, the smaller one there. The big one, the bitch, her name is Koi. They’re brother and sister.”

“I’ve never seen dogs like that before. What are they?”

“Mediterranean Kiwi Hounds,” he said. Both were looking intently across the field and began to point like other bird dogs I had seen in the past, but strangely I thought, from a seated position.

“Do they see another one?”

“They better not. It’s hell importing the Kiwi’s, so we only hunt them once a week. They probably see a squirrel.”

He made a short clicking sound out of the side of his mouth and they stood up. With two more clicks the pair began to stalk towards the tree where they had seen the squirrel. They parted ways and Carp walked towards the left flank of the tree while Koi made a wide circle to the right so she could envelope the little creature. “They’ll do this all day if I let ‘em,” he said. “They would rid the state of squirrels, rats, and coons if they ever got loose.”

I let out a short chuckle, and Mr. Burnett interrupted. “I’m serious,” he said frankly. “They’re killing machines. That’s how they got their name, you know— they eradicated the Mediterranean coastal areas of the Kiwi Bird. Now they’re just in New Zealand. In fact, it’s still illegal to bring a Kiwi Hound to New Zealand.”

I was shocked. I had heard of the Kiwi Bird before, but never the canine named after the prey they cleared from three continents. Mr. Burnett explained that the Mediterranean Kiwi Hound is believed to have been bred by the descendants of Hannibal Barca who remained near the Mediterranean coast of Spain. The Kiwi Bird was introduced to the Mediterranean ports near Cairo in the late 16th century AD by Chinese pirates who looked to sale the exotic birds for the juicy, sweet and tart characteristics of their meat. Within a century, the birds had become a nuisance and were in every coastal region of the Mediterranean Sea. The Barca blood line produced more than great fighters and silver miners, it also produced great dog breeders. Of the many unique breeds that are attributed to the Barca’s, the Mediterranean Kiwi Hound is the most prized, and if Kiwi Bird populations are an indication— they’re the most affective as well. 

The hound is a large breed. A healthy male can weigh up to 90 lbs. and a healthy bitch can easily exceed 110 lbs., though Mr. Burnett’s pair are unusually large at 104 lbs. and 126 lbs., respectively.  It’s believed that the breeders planned on the hound’s ability to target larger prey once the Kiwis were under control. However, they underestimated people’s affection for the Kiwi Bird. The Mediterranean species were completely eradicated by the early 19^th century, leaving the remaining population in New Zealand and the surrounding islands. Agricultural efforts, human expansion, and natural predators would drive these to near extinction, and the result was a societal backlash against the prowess of the Kiwi Hound— the canines were cancelled.

They have enlarged ears, narrow set eyes, and elongated muzzles. Their legs are disproportionately long compared to other contemporary canine breeds, and their fur is very short. Their color ranges from silver to rose-gold, and some very unique hounds have a copper hue to them. Regardless of their coloring, they always resemble polished metal and shine in the sunlight with almost reflective qualities.

I asked Mr. Burnett if he bred them, and he said that he did not. He works very closely with Barca breeders and is paid as a consultant but maintains that his passion is “in the training of these magical creatures.”

As my time with Mr. Burnett was ending, I asked what was next for him. He said softly, “I’m gonna quit.”

“Quit? Working with the Kiwi Hounds,” I asked.

“God no. Quit working as a canine training instructor for the government. I say it all the time, but I mean it.” He was staring at Koi. “I’m tired of working with smart dogs and dumb people. I want to spend the time I have left on this planet eating breakfast tacos and working with my Kiwi Hounds.”

Koi looked back at him and made a short “whee” sound of her own. “Whee,” he replied, and in that moment, I swear she smiled back. Then she was gone, a glint shown as she turned in the sun and snatched the squirrel. Carp was there in less than a second, and I looked at Mr. Burnett. He was smiling, or where those tears? They were. His eyes were tearing up, and I felt a little embarrassed as he wiped them. Of course, it could have been the cold that pulled the tears from the stoic hero’s eyes, but I don’t think so. I think it was the love for the Mediterranean Kiwi Hound which overwhelmed Mr. Burnett. After all, heroes cry too.

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For folks interested in learning more about the Mediterranean Kiwi Hound, or to schedule tours of Mr. Burnett’s training facility, I would suggest you go to Mr. Burnett’s website, www.JBurnettKiwiSatire.com. He maintains a ton of information on that site, including lineage records for his hounds, which can be traced back to the first Barca bred Kiwi Hounds. He also publishes the facility tour calendar. Space is limited and there is a substantial waitlist. Additionally, folks looking to take advantage of his training programs, can go to his training site, www.burnettbuttbuddy.com. You can also email him at satire@burnettbrush.com, though he admits he isn’t very good at checking his email.

I want to thank you for your interest in the Hero Handler series. I would like to thank the people that took the time to speak with me for this article, especially, my wife Chezarae Courts. Finally, I would like to thank Mr. Burnett directly. The time and effort he spends defending our nation’s freedoms, and his passion for unique canines, keep us free to pursue our own interests and the magic of the Mediterranean Kiwi Hound alive.

If you enjoyed learning about this hero and want to learn about others like him, please consider subscribing to my Substack. You’ll receive an email notification with subsequent publications. The next entry in the profile series is titled “Hero Handlers: Profiling Katrina “Kat” Ratcliff, the Dachshund Dame.” It’s a fun one that profiles a hero— and hound— as unique as Mr. Burnett, albeit for very different reasons. In addition to being a veteran, all around awesome person, and Ninja Warrior, Kat is a top contender in the Pan-American Weenie Dog Racing Series. You’ll need a helmet to hang with her.

Until then, Semper Fidelis.