No Buddy Left Behind: Bringing U.S. Troops' Dogs and Cats Safely Home From the Combat Zone (40 page)

Warming to strangers on their own terms seems to be a common thread among the Iraqi dogs. "Kujo doesn't like strangers to approach him too quickly. If someone new comes to the house, they have to enter slowly and sit down. Kujo gives them a good once-over with his nose, and when he decides they've passed his inspection, he'll offer them his paw. Once he accepts a person, he considers them a friend for life."

"Kujo played such an important role in Matt's life in Iraq, having him here is like a miracle," Adela continued. "We are now in the process of getting a sister for Kujo. She'll be a rescue from a local shelter, and we're looking forward to giving her a good home."

Francine-Kevin knew he wouldn't see his beloved cat, Tom, when he got home, but he was looking forward to being reunited with his dog, Francine. Kevin's wife met him at the train station in Fredericksburg, Virginia. As the reunited couple walked out of the station, Kevin glimpsed, from the corner of his eye, a foot-wide rubber mat that had been placed across the road for counting the cars as they entered the station parking lot. It looked just like the sort of thing used by Iraqi insurgents to hide IEDs, initiating a bomb attack. A classic post-trauma reaction hit Kevin like a thunderbolt.

"I almost blacked out," he said later. "It was so strong-this feeling came over me like a kind of rage-and it overwhelmed all my senses.

"My wife realized something was wrong, and she got me to the car as quickly as she could. That's when I saw Francine. Maybe Tom was gone, but my canine buddy was there. The moment I touched her, all the feelings of disorientation dissipated, and I knew I was going to be okay." Today Francine lives with her family, who are all grateful to have her.

Pooty-When her husband's normally upbeat voice sounded unusually down during their overseas call between Iraq and the States, Rhonda asked him what was wrong. She had also served our country in the military and was quite familiar with the stresses of deployment.

"It seems like everyone I care for is being taken away," Michael said. "And this year, it's been one too many."

Michael's father had died during his latest deployment, and long months of separation from Rhonda had been extremely difficult. But that wasn't the last straw. "It's this dog at our FOB," he explained. "We're moving out of here, and she'll get left behind. I've been taking care of her, and I've grown to love her. Now it looks like I'm losing her, too."

During Michael's tour he had been blown up by an "S vest" (suicide bomb) and spent ten days in a German hospital before returning to duty in Iraq. Throughout his absence the camp mascot stationed herself on the soldier's cot. Except for potty breaks, Pooty refused to move until Michael came back. Rhonda suddenly realized that this dog meant more to her husband than anything else at that moment, and she made a vow to bring the dog home, no matter what it took to do it.

Days later the desperate Rhonda contacted Terri. Pooty became one of the twenty-eight animals to join the FedEx rescue mission. When she finally reached her new home in Washington State, Pooty weighed twenty-nine pounds and was nothing but skin and bones. Immediately she fit in with the family's three rescue dogs from American shelters, and she seemed really happy to be a pack member again.

Today Pooty weighs fifty-four pounds and is as healthy as a German short hair from Iraq can be. The Army camp's retired mascot has recently been promoted to Nanny for Michael and Rhonda's toddler daughter. Pooty dotes on the child, forgiving her for pulled ears and tail, and protects her as if that's what she was born and bred to do. Pooty and the toddler visit Grampa's five-acre family spread several times a week. While Pooty enjoys the freedom to run, Grampa shares a plate of pancakes with his granddaughter.

Pooty regularly attends U.S. military and SPCA fundraisers, doing her best to support the troops, and she raises money for local SPCA shelters and the Operation Baghdad Pups program. She's now a hard-working American dog and proud of it.

Stubbs-The dog that won the hearts of volunteers in New Jersey has gone from hell in Iraq to heaven in Virginia. Perhaps the oldest dog rescued by Operation Baghdad Pups, Stubbs had lived a life of sheer misery. Every time Davey's unit returned from patrol, he found that Iraqi soldiers had brutalized this poor animal. During the writing of Terri's book, we decided that details of the trauma Stubbs suffered were too horrible to include in the stories.

Before Davey handed Stubbs over to the SLG team that delivered him to Terri, Davey told his dog all about the wonderful home he was going to in rural Virginia. Finally, with tears in his eyes, Davey said, "Give this to my mom," and hugged his buddy goodbye.

"All those days we waited for Stubbs to come home," Lorna said, "it seemed as if the dog was an extension of my son. I knew how important he was to Davey, and I couldn't wait to get my arms around him. When he finally arrived, I went up to his crate and opened the door. The first thing that dog did was lick me in the face. I felt like my son had sent me a great big kiss."

"Our family decided Stubbs would be happiest living at our daughter's house. They have a fenced-in yard with trees, grass, and a big dog house for shade on summer days. One of their two dogs had recently died, and the remaining dog, Carly, had been pining for her old friend. We didn't know if she and Stubbs would get along, but the moment they set eyes on each other, it was like they were instant friends. My daughter also has two kids, so Stubbs gained a whole family as well as a girlfriend.

"Everything was an adventure for Stubbs at first. Why, he thought grass was the nastiest-looking stuff he'd ever seen. We laughed when he wanted nothing to do with it and refused to walk on it. But pretty soon he learned from Carly and the kids not to be scared, and now he loves nothing more than lying down on all that green stuff and having a good roll.

"Despite the mutilation and torture he suffered from human hands, Stubbs never hardened his heart. He looks at us with the softest, most loving eyes you've ever seen, and he's the gentlest creature you could imagine with those kids.

"Before Stubbs came to America, Davey thought he wasn't going to survive his tour in Iraq. But the moment we sent the message, `Stubbs made it-He's here!' my son kept talking about what he was going to do when he got home. I know in my heart that the saving of Stubbs was also the saving of my boy. When anyone wonders out loud at the fairness of bringing an Iraqi stray to America, I just tell them a soldier's dog is always worth saving because it's a part of him. And when my son comes home, I don't want any bit of him left behind."

Iraqi-Alishia's mother, Melissa, brought Iraqi home to Pennsylvania, where state regulations required her to quarantine the dog in her home for six months. By the time Alishia redeployed and was able to visit her buddy, her mom and the dog had totally bonded. Now called "Iraqi-Roo," the much loved dog has become attached to Bean, an American-born Dachshund.

"I didn't have the heart to break them apart," said Alishia, "but I visit him about twice a year. Each time I come, Iraqi and I go hiking in the woods. He loves chasing every bird he sees, and he jumps like a gazelle through the trees; it's beautiful to watch."

Alishia, now separated from the Army, plans to dedicate the rest of her life to animals. In the summer of 2011, she begins her first semester of veterinary school.

Dusty-The dog with intense gold eyes, rescued by Alan, has been both a comfort and a challenge to Jean, Alan's mother. When Dusty arrived in New York, Jean, a skilled dog trainer, described him as shut down, often frozen, and unable to respond. He was a highly stressed animal with classic symptoms of PTSD, shown by his sweaty pads, dilated pupils, and constant hair loss. He was reactive to fast-moving objects and people, and whenever anyone with a Middle Eastern appearance came to the house, Dusty had to be muzzled.

Dusty was used to taking care of his soldiers, and that behavior didn't change. When Jean's senior dog disappeared in a three-foot snowdrift and was unable to climb out, Dusty reacted by barking nonstop while running from window to window. Finally he sat down and gave a distress signal of three short howls, a sound he'd never made before. Dusty's behavior alerted the family to the other dog's predicament and saved its life.

Alan served as a Green Beret in the Special Forces in high-risk, top-security missions for six years. No one in the family ever knew where he was stationed, and when or even if he would come home for R&R or redeployment. One day Alan just appeared on the front porch unannounced and stood at the glass door looking in. Dusty froze with hackles up until he recognized Alan. He stood up and pawed the lever of the French door until it opened, and he jumped into Alan's arms, delirious with joy.

Jean's heart bled for this young man who now seemed like a stranger. Alan had come home about as emotionally cut off as a soldier can be. He was unwilling to talk to anyone, even his parents. For six years he had served in the most dangerous, high risk, ugly war situations that our country can ask of any soldier to endure. Due to the sensitive nature of his work while on deployment, he could never discuss the traumatic memories that would reveal where he had been and what he'd done. He had no way, therefore, to release them and to heal.