No Buddy Left Behind: Bringing U.S. Troops' Dogs and Cats Safely Home From the Combat Zone (19 page)

Angry yowls started coming from behind a huge pile of cement blocks. I went to investigate, and there she was, filthy with matted fur sticking out all over. In the midst of cavorting with a big Iraqi tom, Jasmine was obviously enjoying herself. Much to her annoyance, I broke up the party and brought her back to base.

Jasmine has survived this long only because my senior officers and my men have stood by me. They joke around, calling me out for being a cat lover, but if it weren't for them, she wouldn't be here now. Marines aren't cold-blooded. There is a compassionate, caring side to these guys. We're like brothers, and when one of us needs a hand, we give it-no matter what. My men would do anything they could to help me get Jasmine out of here, but no one has a way. It has been driving me crazy.

When I contacted Matt Kincaid of Pet Relocations and received his message from you at SPCA International, I almost couldn't believe it. What an amazing relief-an absolute miracleto learn that Operation Baghdad Pups is prepared to help me get Jasmine home. You are truly an answer to this Marine's prayers.

-Capt Thomas Liu, USMC

At some point, I hoped, SPCA International would be able to persuade the military to amend General Order 1A, making it possible for troops to have a mascot under certain conditions, but for now I had to direct my energy into getting Hope and jasmine home. The desperation in Thomas's e-mail was echoed in more than twenty requests from other Americans in Iraq, all in similar situations. Having added the first two cats to my active rescue list, I found myself thinking about the old saying that things happen in threes. Sure enough, one of the next urgent requests was for a very pregnant cat named "Miki." If we waited much longer, Miki's kittens would be born. Airline regulations forbid transport of animals younger than twelve weeks. By then this soldier's unit would have redeployed.

I had already promised to bring home a dog named "Kujo" with the double-feline rescue, and I was limited to three animals per flight. Each mission required approximately thirty hours of actual time spent in the air if I traveled from the east coast. From my home in California, however, I'd be adding another twelve hours. At this rate I could bring home only three animals a week.

The summer travel embargo, when airlines refuse to transport animals during extreme heat, would begin in about six weeks. But I had forty anxious owners desperate to get their buddies out of the country before they redeployed.

I envisioned scenes from war movies in which medics and nurses mark the foreheads of incoming wounded soldiers-This one can be treated; this one hasn't got a chance-virtually sealing their fate. I had to come up with another plan of action.

My oldest daughter, Jennifer McKim, was aware of Operation Baghdad Pups from its inception. She had been working with SPCA International's administrative team. I talked to my boss and discussed the possibility of asking my daughter to run a mission under my supervision. JD agreed that as long as Jennifer was willing to go, he would release her from her work commitments. As soon as we hung up, I called Jennifer from D.C.

"Hi! I've got a question for you. Remember the day I told you guys I was going to Iraq?"

"I'll never forget it. When you're really quiet, Mom, I know you are hanging onto something big. That day you hadn't said a word all morning, so I was thinking the worst. While several possibilities crossed my mind, it never occurred to me that my mother would announce she was flying into a war zone. I just wasn't prepared to lose you to a suicide bomber or hear on the news that you'd been killed by an IED."

"Well, thank goodness it didn't turn out like anything you imagined. I've been quite safe on every trip."

"So what's brewing now? You said you had a question."

"How would you feel about going to Iraq?" A long silence filled the air. "Jennifer? Are you still there?"

"I'm thinking."

"With two of us going, we'll double the number of animals we bring home in a week, and the place where we'll be staying is not that dangerous. It isn't like the reports you've seen on TV. Just think, the very first stamp in your passport would be from Kuwait, and other than people in the military, how many Americans can say they've been to Iraq?"

"Okay. I'll go."

"Way to go, Jennifer," I said with all the pride a mother could possibly feel in her heart.

I checked dates with John Wagner from Gryphon Airlines, hoping we could arrange the two missions for the week of April 23. Recent air restrictions due to increased war activity were having an impact on Gryphon, causing some flights to be rescheduled. After John confirmed my requested dates, I contacted SLG security and the animals' owners. As usual, there were last-minute scrambles to find airline travel crates and to get the animals from point A to point B, ensuring they all arrived at BIAP on time. Because Miki was so close to giving birth, I arranged for Jennifer to carry her in a soft-sided carrier inside the passenger cabin of the Kuwait to Dulles flight. The three dogs she was accompanying would stay in the pressurized cargo hold of the plane.

I flew into Kuwait two days before Jennifer to finalize the two mission plans, but before I left, I went over the whole routine with my daughter. I assured her that I'd be waiting at Kuwait International Airport when she arrived, would accompany her on the round-trip flight into Baghdad to pick up the animals from the SLG security men, and would make certain that she and her charges successfully boarded the final flight from Kuwait to Washington. I would then go through the same routine on the following day for the animals I was accompanying, and I'd meet Jennifer at Bev and Barb's house the day after she returned.

When I finally landed at Dulles International Airport with Hope, Jasmine, and the dog named "Kujo," Pam Bousquet was eagerly waiting in the arrivals lounge to meet the cat her husband had befriended. Pam was dressed in one of Bruce's T-shirts that he had worn for several days and then mailed to Pam, presuming that Hope would recognize her as part of Bruce's family.

Pam gasped. "She's even more beautiful than her photo," she said, her eyes glistening with tears. Hope's kohl-rimmed eyes captivated anyone who gazed at her, and she instantly won Pam's heart. The moment Hope picked up Bruce's scent she rubbed against Pam's chest and expressed herself in a surprisingly loud Siamese-like voice.

"Bruce warned me how vocal she is," Pam laughed with delight. "Apparently she runs around his room at night, about a hundred miles an hour, growling all the way. He calls her his `Indy 500 race car."'

I could already see that this was a match made in heaven.

After gathering Thomas Liu's cat, jasmine, and Kujo the dog, I drove to Bev and Barb's house, remembering the day I had received Adela's e-mail. Adela was engaged to Matt, the soldier who had befriended Kujo. The e-mail began:

Matt is a U.S. Marine currently serving in Iraq. This is his first tour, and already he has made several amazing friends. His best friend is a little pup he found and named "Kujo."

Matt and his team were out on a mission and came across two puppies, one of which had been shot and the other, no older than five weeks, was probably next in line. Despite the rules, Matt took the dog with him, fearing he'd be killed if left to fend for himself. And he brought him back to his hooch, where he fed and bathed the puppy, and he has potty-trained him as well. Kujo is now a couple of months old.

Matt will be leaving his base in about thirty days and then a week or two after will come back to the States. He is worried that if the puppy is left behind, Kujo will slowly starve since he doesn't know how to fend for himself.

Matt does not know I am writing to you because the chances of Kujo being brought home are probably slim to none, and I don't want to get his hopes up only to let him down again. But if there is ANYTHING you or anyone else can do, Matt's family and friends would appreciate your help and will do whatever it takes to bring this puppy home.

-Adela Vodenicarevic

It had taken me all of two minutes to read the e-mail, and I immediately responded by calling Adela's phone number. Bev and Barb had been sitting at the table with me and were caught in the anticipation of listening to the good-news phone call.

"Hello," a sweet voice answered.

"Is this Adela?" I asked.

"Yes," she replied hesitantly. I wondered if she thought I was trying to sell her something. Bev and Barb watched me with big grins on their faces, eager to hear the young woman's reaction to news that would surely be an answer to many prayers.

"This is Terri Crisp from . . ." I didn't even complete my sentence before Adela interrupted with an oh-my-God outburst.

"I can't believe it. You called!" she cried into the phone. "Please tell me you are calling to say there is a way to get Kujo home for Matt."

Never had the word "yes" felt so good coming out of my mouth.

Now that I had returned from Iraq with Kujo, as soon as we got back to Bev and Barb's house I would call Adela and make plans for uniting her with the dog her sweetheart loved so much.

Jennifer greeted me with a big hug when I entered Bev and Barb's house.

"How did your flight go?" I asked, eager for my daughter's first impressions of her incredible journey.

"I wouldn't have admitted it before," Jennifer laughed, "but when I first agreed to go to Iraq, I secretly began to wonder about saying my goodbyes to family and friends. I know that sounds overdramatic now, but images of CNN news reports kept flashing across my mind. Once my plane began the approach to Kuwait City and I saw that it looked a lot like Phoenix, I realized everything was going to be fine, just like you said. The whole trip was great. I'd do it again gladly."

"What about Miki? Did you manage okay with her? Did she have the kittens yet?"

"No, thank goodness. When I saw her tummy swollen to the size of a melon, knowing we had a thirteen-hour flight ahead of us, I thought for sure she would give birth at thirty-five thousand feet. I was seated beside a woman wearing an abaya, and she made it quite clear she was not happy about sitting next to someone with a cat tucked under her seat. Each time I pulled the carrier onto my lap to see how Miki was doing, a look of disgust crossed her face, and she insisted that I mustn't unzip the carrier. It was a reaction you warned me to expect from people over there, but I was totally unprepared for the intensity of the woman's prejudice. I kept praying Miki wouldn't start having those kittens. Oh, Mom, it was the longest thirteen hours of my life."

Jasmine just after her arrival in the United States Terri Crisp

Miki enjoying the good life in the United States Terri Crisp

Bev and Barb's house had become the unofficial staging area for the animals' arrival in the States. At their cozy home with the fencedin backyard, animals had a chance to recover and adjust. As soon as the animals arrived, Bev or Barb took each one to Tyson Corners Animal Hospital for a thorough examination and afterward took the dogs upstairs to Waggin Tails grooming salon for a much-needed bath. Barb said the dogs always had the same look on their faces when they came out wearing fancy bandannas: If only those mutts in Iraq could see me now.