No Buddy Left Behind: Bringing U.S. Troops' Dogs and Cats Safely Home From the Combat Zone (20 page)

The saying that "you win some; you lose some," never held so true, as the number of requests for assistance from Operation Baghdad Pups continued to increase. I had a scorecard in my head that recorded the winners as well as those that lost. By the time Jennifer and I finished our missions, a total of eleven dogs and three cats had, in less than three months, beaten almost insurmountable odds to make it safely out of a combat zone and into the arms of loving families in America. Little did I know then, how many more animals would walk through the door of victory before the summer travel embargo slammed it shut.

Tiger in the mountains of Afghanistan Jessica Walker

raq wasn't the only Middle Eastern country the United States was occupying when our rescue missions began. Back in October of 2001, the United States had launched Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan after the terrorist attacks on September 11. I wasn't surprised, therefore, when we received, in March 2008, our first plea from a soldier stationed in Afghanistan.

I am desperately seeking help to get my dog, Tiger, home from Afghanistan. He was about four weeks old when friendly Afghan soldiers found him on a military firing range outside our camp. They brought the puppy around to show everyone, and when they handed me the fluffy white bundle, I took one look into his piercing blue eyes, and it broke my heart. How could we leave this poor thing out there to die? I gave him a bath and fed him his first chow. From that day forward, he became the camp dog, and now he's a big part of our lives, impacting more than twenty-five soldiers.

Tiger is such a clown and doesn't even realize it. When he sits with us, and someone tells a story, he looks at them and listens as if he understands what they're saying. When we start laughing, he barks along with us, as if he got the joke. It cracks us up every time.

Tiger's temperament is as soft as his body. When I see him, it knocks the chaos of war down several notches. He's my little piece of sanity in the middle of an insane country. Tiger sleeps in my room, and he eats breakfast, lunch, and dinner with the soldiers. He makes us laugh and raises our spirits in this desolate, harsh place.

I exercise Tiger every day. Even though he's just a pup, his long legs are already navigating the rocky mountain terrain above camp, where I let him off the leash.

Tiger is the best thing that has happened to me since I got to Afghanistan. When we redeploy in the middle of April, if I don't find a way to bring him home, Tiger will think I've abandoned him. He won't understand. I can't do that to the best friend I've ever had.

-SSG Jessie Walker

With no Afghanistan contacts and so little time to arrange another miracle, I called a friend who, facing enormous obstacles, had managed to get her brother's dog, Cinnamon, out of Afghanistan. Her recently published book, Saving Cinnamon, chronicled the dog's adventure and was making more people aware of the plight of animals in this particular war zone.

"You'll never guess why I'm calling," I said. "I need your help to get a dog out of Afghanistan."

"You're kidding."

My friend's words had already painted an image of Afghanistan that made it sound as dangerous and uncivilized as a place could possibly be. It was definitely not a country I envisioned entering, except perhaps, to rescue some animals.

"What's his name?"

"Tiger. He's an adorable puppy; I'll send you a picture. The locals say he's an Afghan Koochee Mountain dog. By the time he's full grown, a small child could ride him."

"He sounds beautiful. Where does this big boy live?"

"I don't know. The camp's location is classified. But the owner says she can get Tiger to the airport in Kabul if we coordinate logistics to fly him from there. That's the part that makes me nervous. I can imagine a hundred different reasons why this is risky."

"You're right. The risks are off the chart," she said. "I've recently learned of an organization in Kabul that might be able to help." Her next words were slow and deliberate. "The only thing is, they must, and I repeat must, remain completely under wraps."

I was getting really good at keeping secrets.

"I can't emphasize enough how important this is," my friend reiterated. "If certain people in Afghanistan find out this organization exists, a lot of animals would be killed, and I'm not just talking about dogs and cats that belong to the troops. A few brave individuals who have dared to help save other animals would also find their lives in jeopardy. The bad guys in that country do not play nice."

All of a sudden Iraq looked pretty darn tame.

The absence of a functional infrastructure in Afghanistan would make the logistics of transporting animals a nightmare. Without roads in many parts of the country, a security company would be unable to reach most pickup destinations. This was a whole new ball game, one where the playing field was downright ugly.

"So, can I contact this organization?"

"Let me get hold of the director, and she'll get back to you," my friend said and told me to be patient because the woman traveled a great deal and was often in parts of the world with no Internet and computers.

I heard from the mysterious woman almost a week later by e-mail. It turned out the director was an American who spent part of her time in Washington, D.C. How much more perfect could that be?

When she asked if I wanted to meet for breakfast in D.C., I was thrilled, even though it dispelled my fantasy of engaging in espio nage and hiding notes in dark alleys late at night. We met at a cozy ma-and-pa diner in Arlington, Virginia, on April 1. The woman looked like she might scare at the sound of "Boo," but I suspected that hidden under her fragile exterior was the determination of a bronze star Marine. As she told her stories about animal rescues under some of the most difficult and dangerous conditions in the world, I was astonished that she had accomplished any at all. Knowing what she had to do, she just did it, defying anyone or anything that got in her way. It was indeed an honor to spend time with someone of her resolve.

Before we left the restaurant the director gave me an e-mail address and phone number for a man in Kabul. "Tell the dog's owner to contact this man, and he'll get Tiger to a safe house. Don't worry; he will be in good hands."

I could hardly wait to e-mail Jessie and give her the good news. She replied almost immediately.

Hi Terri,

I can't begin to tell you how thrilled I am to hear this. Now Tiger will get to live the good life with me at the beach and leave this barren country behind. I gave him a shower today, and he's so clang pretty! He's all ready to go traveling.

-SSG Jessie Walker

An hour later I received a phone call that made the day even better. Dena DeSantis, a guidance counselor at Fair Lawn High School in New Jersey, was moderator for the Animal Rights Club, a group consisting of twelve girls. Her students were looking for a project that would benefit animals. When Dena saw the news story about Operation Baghdad Pups rescuing K-Pot and Liberty, she asked the girls if they'd be interested in raising enough funds to bring a soldier's dog home from Iraq. The entire club agreed it was a cool idea.

Tiger seemed to be the ideal dog for the girls' project. When Tiger entered the States, he would land at John F. Kennedy Airport in New York, close enough to the girls' school for them to greet Tiger on his first stop in America. That sealed the deal.

"How much money do we need to round up?" Dena asked.

"On average, it costs SPCA International about four thousand dollars to get one animal out of the Middle East."

"Wow," she said after a pause. "That's a lot of money, but the kids' hearts are set on helping a soldier save his or her pet, and I'm determined to help them succeed. If they aren't able to raise the whole four thousand, I'll pitch in whatever is needed to cover the shortfall."

This was one rare guidance counselor.

"Dena," I told her, "before we agree to go ahead with this, there's one thing you and your students need to understand. I can't give you any guarantees when it comes to getting an animal out of a war zone. Any number of things could go wrong, in spite of our best-laid plans. If that happens, it will be a terrible blow for those kids."

"My students know that when you care about animals, it's not always easy," Dena said. "We'll be praying Tiger makes it out safely, but if something goes wrong, we'll just have to deal with it as one of life's learning experiences. They'll be willing to take the risk, I'm sure.

Later I e-mailed Jessie to ask if she was willing to be the students' pen pal.

"Are you kidding?" she responded. "I can't believe they'd do this for a complete stranger. I'll gladly correspond with them, and I'll send photos of Tiger, too. This is incredible news. I just can't get over it. You have no idea what this means to me."

The students were thrilled to hear from Jessie and see pictures of Tiger. They fell instantly in love with the pup that was growing like a weed in the mountains of Afghanistan. Every day they checked to see if Jessie had e-mailed any more updates on Tiger's antics.

Dena sent me regular reports on her students' progress for their Bring Tiger Home project. One of her e-mails chronicled the girls' accomplishments and contained an amazing announcement.

When I told the faculty and staff that my students were going to raise $4,000, everyone said they'll never do it. But those girls got together and brainstormed, leaving no stone unturned. Since then they have been doing bake sales, car washes, can drives, and even a massive community-wide garage sale. At least two girls have attended every PTA or school event where there's an audience and talked about their project, asking for donations and help.

Our local newspaper ran a story about the club's mission to save a soldier's dog. They included Tiger's picture and even gave a plug for donations. Community response has been unbelievable. One person donated a coveted pair of Broadway show tickets to raffle; another sent a check for $1,000. A neighboring high school's tennis team made a donation, and dozens of heartfelt letters of praise for the girls and our soldiers have accompanied checks. Each week at our meeting we pass the letters around, along with the tissue box, as we read. I am so proud of these kids. Today the girls reported they have raised $8,000 and are still counting.