So where was Sabi the wonder dog all this time? Can't say, says the defence force. Hmm ... can't or won't?

So where was Sabi the wonder dog all this time? Can't say, says the defence force. Hmm ... can't or won't? Photo: Andrew Meares

FORGIVE me if it's too soon to ask the hard questions. But in the swell of emotion over the return of the Aussie bomb sniffing dog missing in Afghanistan for 14 months, we fear the real story may be obscured by schmaltzy military spin.

Namely: where on earth has she been all this time?

The official military line is that they just don't know. But they would say that, wouldn't they? Especially if she'd been on a top secret mission as an undercover operative.

In an attempt to throw reporters off the scent yesterday, an Australian Defence Force spokesman suggested it was a mystery even to the top brass. "We really don't know what happened in the intervening period," said Brigadier Brian Dawson at the best-attended press conference he's had for quite some time.

But you can see it now: Sabi swathed in the cornflour blue of an Afghan burqua, the only clue to her real identity a glimpse of paw beneath its crimped hem.

Adding weight to the theory was the cryptic commentary from defence about the circumstances of her discovery.

"The US soldier who recovered her can only be identified by his first name, John," they said in a two-page press release. "He said it was immediately obvious that Sabi was no ordinary canine. 'I took the dog and gave her some commands it understood'. John thanked the man who was with Sabi and shook his hand." Sounds like the stuff of spy novels to me.

It's just one of a number of theories, of course. Another being the idea that after she leapt out of her vehicle when a rocket exploded and then fell behind the retreating patrol, she was taken prisoner of wWar by the Taliban. But the Brigadier also headed that idea off at the pass.

"Her condition suggests someone has looked after it. She looks like a normal healthy black labrador."

Which rather elevates the final and most reassuring theory: she's simply been AWOL. And who would blame her? Given a choice between risking life and limb nosing through dangerous explosives and a runaway civilian existence in a mud brick village, it would be understandable if she just felt like taking some time out.

"Is it fair to bring dogs into such a dangerous combat situation?" one reporter asked the Brigadier yesterday, rather making one wonder why the same isn't asked more often about the young humans we send into the path of danger.

Indeed it was noteworthy that the return of Sabi seemed to garner far more publicity than the latest human cost of the conflict: another Australian soldier and three Afghan troops wounded by shrapnel from an improvised explosive device.

It also raised another hot-button debate in military policy. "Should female explosive detection dogs be allowed to serve on the frontline?" tweeted Crikey correspondent Bernard Keane.

Even Prime Minister Kevin Rudd and US General Stanley McChrystal went out of their way to lavish attention on the pooch, who went missing in the battle where SAS trooper Mark Donaldson rescued wounded colleagues under heavy fire. Donaldson was since awarded a Victoria Cross for the dramatic acts of bravery, and was quoted yesterday saying the return of Sabi would help bring "closure" to the troops in that battle.

Amid all the hype, including the tribute that she had "a great nose for explosives", we braced for someone to suggest that the canine would get a medal too. Mercifully some restraint was at hand.

The Goanna today is Age Canberra correspondent Misha Schubert.