10/10/2026
Ten years ago this morning, I was told I might have to say goodbye to my best friend.
On 5 October 2016, at around 2am, my police dog Finn and I were chasing a suspected robber in Stevenage.
Finn caught him as he tried to escape.
The man had a 10-inch knife.
He stabbed Finn through the chest and into his lungs.
Then he turned the knife on me.
Finn threw himself between us.
He saved my life.
But Finn was dying.
I remember desperately trying to keep him alive as we rushed him to the vets. I held his chest together on the floor while the veterinary team tried to work out what they could do.
We had to get him to a specialist veterinary hospital.
I was injured too, and eventually I was made to leave Finn so that my own injuries could be documented.
Thatâs when the the vet came to me.
âThis might be goodbye.â
I was given the chance to go and say goodbye to Finn.
I didnât know whether I would ever see him alive again.
But Finn wasnât finished.
He underwent hours of emergency surgery, including surgery to his lungs, and somehow he survived.
Eleven weeks later, that bloody-minded, brave, extraordinary dog was back doing the job he loved.
And that should have been the end of the story.
But it wasnât.
Because what happened to Finn exposed something that was very wrong.
At the time, seriously injuring a service animal could be treated as criminal damage.
So we started campaigning.
We took Finnâs story to the public.
We took it to Parliament.
People listened.
And on 8 June 2019, Finnâs Law became law in England and Wales, giving greater protection to service animals.
A law.
Named after my dog.
Finn went on to receive the PDSA Gold Medal for his life-saving devotion to duty, appeared on Britainâs Got Talent, reached the final, won awards, met thousands of people and became known around the world.
But none of that is what I remember most.
I remember the dog who came home.
The dog who knew when he was working and when he was just Finn with his family.
The dog who was part of our family.
The dog who slept in our home, played with our children, annoyed us, made us laugh and somehow became a very important members of our family.
I remember my mate.
Finn died peacefully in his sleep in July 2023, aged 14.
And today, ten years after the night that nearly took him from me, Iâll go and sit with him again.
Because he isnât here for me to hug anymore.
But his statue is.
And his story is.
And his name is now written into the law of this country.
Ten years ago, Finn saved my life.
Ten years later, I am still trying to make sure his life means something.
If youâve ever loved a dog, worked alongside an animal, or simply believe that those who protect us deserve protection themselves, please share Finnâs story.
Not for me.
For Finn. â¤ď¸đž
