From Afghanistan

Besides our cat, Georgia, on our compound we also have an alpha female and three of her ten puppies. Dusty is a highbred dog that is the size of a Great Dane, but looks like a cross between a Golden Retriever and German shepherd. She is the main guard dog for the compound. Often we can’t see over the ten foot brick wall and she will be the first to notify us if a stranger is on the other side. She is a quiet dog who has never snapped at any soldier. She listens to commands as if she was part of the team and I believe she is smarter than the average dog, since she senses what we want her to do and immediately does it before we ask her. For example, on one occasion I was walking outside of our compound to get a look around and Dusty followed right beside me the whole time, as if to say, “Don’t worry newbie I’ll walk you through a perimeter check.” As I opened the gate, she sprung ahead and started growling. When she speaks we all listen, so I took out my 9mm hand gun and started walking toward the direction she was pointing. As I approached the corner, I immediately saw an Afghan national about to throw rocks at Dusty. I pointed my gun and gave him the international signal, “don’t you even dare,” shake of my head. He ran away and only later did I learn that no workers were supposed to be near the compound that day. Whether he was friend or foe, I may never know – but I do know that Dusty acted on a perceived threat and “had my back” just as any member of my team would.

Since Dusty is on constant guard to protect us, we tend to be equally protective of her and will go the extra mile for her welfare. When her puppies were born, the runt of the litter was not breathing and a fellow soldier put the pup to his mouth and resuscitated it back to life. When it came time to get rid of seven of the puppies, after a few weeks and when they were ready, each was found a good home. They were given to the Afghan National Police with strict instructions about caring for them. Now when we do our rounds checking on the police, we make sure the dogs are being treated properly. The Police are learning a new respect for these animals and their ability to provide both service and companionship.

Veterinarians in Afghanistan are rarer than an albino panda walking down the street. So often we avoid animals like the plague since rabies is a constant threat. When we came into the country and were briefed regarding safety issues, we were told no pets because of disease. It’s a good thing that all of our animals are working animals then. Fortunately for our compound’s animals, “Mother” had his own mother (who volunteers at her local animal shelter) get donations to have Dusty and Georgia sent home to him in the states when he returns. For a cat it costs $1,200 and a dog goes for $1,500. I’m already working on my plan to convince my wife that we need three “Guard” puppies to join us when I return. This is the point in this letter where some of you ask “If he wants a dog and cat, shouldn’t he adopt the ones back in the States?” To you I respond that once you have a connection with an animal, any animal in any part of the world, you can’t just leave the animal to fend for itself. For some people their animals are another part of the family and to “Mother” it would be like leaving a child behind. These animals don’t know nationality – they crave the same attention and care as all animals around the world. And they are no less entitled to it.

The alternative to leaving the dog is having it possibly end up in a dog pit fighting for its life. The fights out in rural areas are a form of weekend and holiday entertainment. This is something no one on my team condones or will ever take part in. The team has even gone to the extreme when it comes to Dusty. She ripped her stomach open on barbed wire and the cut was deep and long. Normally in this condition most people would have put the dog down, but the soldiers here used all their combat life saving techniques and stopped the bleeding, then stitched her up. In this whole painful process, not once did Dusty whimper or snap at the rescuers, she had complete faith in us as a team.

Back at home in the States I have a cat, Buddy, and a dog, Zoe. They are part of my family. Zoe is overprotective of my children and when one cries she comes to the child’s aid to help in any way she can. For my two littlest children, Zoe is a pillow, a stuffed animal, a dress-up dog, a horse, even a baby sitter. Buddy – well, he’s a cat. He’s great for staring at empty spaces, darting wildly into another part of the house for no apparent reason and running under your legs when you try going down a flight of stairs. Having said this, I wouldn’t change Buddy for anything (except maybe a puma or lion, but don’t tell my wife this – he’s her baby).

It is because of my affection for all animals that I pity the ones I have seen in Afghanistan. Not only because of the life they lead or the fate for their future generations, but because I know that the people here will possibly never know in their lifetime the precious thing they have. They will never know that if you treat an animal with kindness and teach them, they are capable of so much more than just providing entertainment. They will never know that the comfort returned from a loved pet is sometimes the greatest love some will ever receive. They will never know that the way society treats animals is a reflection on the society as a whole and the direction for their future. A society is not measured by the size of its largest building or number of strip malls per square mile – it is measured by how it treats those less fortunate and those who can’t care for themselves.

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