No Buddy Left Behind: Bringing U.S. Troops' Dogs and Cats Safely Home From the Combat Zone (12 page)

You never know what he's going to do next. Yesterday K-Pot ran up to a big 25-ton Stryker tank with a giant gun on top. One soldier took a photo of him lifting his leg and peeing on it. Man, did we laugh.

The incongruity of men going out, trained to kill and prepared to be killed, and then coming back to play with a puppy, perfectly illustrated how crazy war is and what a source of relief K-Pot must be for those soldiers. The next excerpt gave me more insight to a soldier's life in Iraq.

We've only had K-Pot a month. Last week we nearly lost him and another puppy named Liberty. Someone took a photo of two of us holding up the puppies and they posted it on AKO (Army Knowledge Online). People check e-mails on this site every day. This led one afternoon to our Commanding Sergeant Major yelling, "Those are my men-with pets!" and a few other choice words. We scrambled to get the pups out of here, or they might have been shot. Our Iraqi interpreter offered to take them back to his house.

That evening we asked how the pups were, and he said he'd hidden them in the trunk of his car since he wouldn't bring them in his house. All we could think was they must be dying of the heat. After dark, four of us-a commissioned officer, a noncommissioned officer, an infantryman, and I-snuck outside the wire and found the bullet-riddled car. We pried the trunk open slowly, halfexpecting to find two bodies. When we whispered the puppies' names, they jumped up, real glad to see us. The officer grabbed Liberty, I took K-Pot, and we hoofed it back to the fire base.

When we got to the gate, one of the guards came out ready to shoot. "What the hell are you guys doing out here?" he asked, implying either we were up to no good or out of our minds.

You should have seen the look on his face when we held up the two puppies and explained that our "force protection canines" had escaped, and we'd gone to rescue them. "Force protection, eh?" he snickered. It wasn't exactly a lie; we fully intended to get them registered as soon as we could.

The soldier started looking as if he was going to order us to leave the pups outside the gate. Before he had a chance to say a word, the officer in our group stood inches from the guard's face and ordered, "Let us through, or I'll have your ass fried and fed to these dogs." The guard obeyed, but, boy, we were nervous thinking we'd get called in on this. If he reported us, we were looking at docked pay, loss of rank and commission. You can't just go outside the wire in enemy territory during the middle of the night and certainly not for a dog.

When soldiers are willing to risk their lives and their careers to protect a puppy they have befriended, surely there was an important message in this for the military.

Hey, Sis,

It's getting close to Christmas, though it sure doesn't seem like it here. I was thinking about the last time we went to cut down a tree together. I bet K-Pot would be full of Christmas spirit if he was home now. He'd take one look at that tree and mark it as his. K-Pot and Liberty finally got promoted to official Force Protection Canines, buying them some much-needed time. I'd like to get K-Pot to the States if I could. Rumor has it we'll be moving to another fire base soon, and we don't know if the pups will be allowed to come.

I noticed that Matt's next and final email was dated immediately after my return from Iraq. If Matt's sister had spent nearly two months trying to find options for transporting K-Pot, it was easy to imagine the frustration and worry she must be feeling. I knew what kind of obstacles she would have run into.

Danielle

URGENT-Moving out and definitely cannot take pups. We heard SPCA International just saved SGT Watson's dog. Will you contact them? Please move fast, or K-Pot and Liberty will be destroyed.

- Matt

After reading the last excerpt, I was already determined to do whatever I could to save these dogs. I finished reading the rest of Danielle's message.

Terri, my family has been following SGT Watson's website with great interest. He has praised the dedication and persistence you and your organization have shown, a commitment that resulted in Charlie's rescue. When you and Charlie appeared on the news as you arrived in Washington, D.C., my family's cheers must have been heard across the state of New Jersey. Now we are praying that you can bring K-Pot home to us, where he will be lovingly cared for until Matt returns from Iraq. Please, will you help us?

-Danielle Berger

Liberty, Force Protection Canine Terri Crisp

It was now clear that Operation Baghdad Pups wasn't just a program that saved a dog. We could prevent one more tragic loss for the men and women who risk their lives protecting what Americans hold dear. They shouldn't have to grieve for their animal buddy when they come home from the war. These dogs were making a difference for our troops, and they deserved to live. I couldn't wait to contact JD and get a go-ahead to give Danielle the news she was hoping for.

Camels on the road in Kuwait Terri Crisp

uring the four days that I had been traveling to rescue Charlie, dozens of e-mails from soldiers in Iraq and from their families in the States had filled my inbox; heartwarming stories of rescued strays followed heart-breaking ones of loss or impending animal destruction. It was a daunting yet humbling task to respond to these brave people. But Danielle Berger's urgent plea required immediate action. Putting everything to one side, I picked up the phone and called JD at SPCA International headquarters.

"We've been getting requests for help here, too," he said, "so I'm not surprised you're reporting the same. I just finished consulting with our board of directors, and they agreed unanimously for the organization to bring additional dogs out of Iraq for U.S. troops. We are well aware that soldiers give everything and ask for so little in return. They deserve our help."

My heart leapt at the sound of those last four words.

"Are we talking about the half-dozen dogs that need urgent transport now, due to redeployments or threat of imminent death, or are we planning to save as many soldiers' dogs as we can?" I asked. "There's a significant difference. Once word gets out about Operation Baghdad Pups, I suspect we will be overrun with requests."

"We'll definitely help the dogs we already know about, and then we'll see what happens after that," JD said. "One of the biggest determining factors for how many dogs we can rescue is whether we can raise adequate funds by donation to support this program."

With approval to move forward, my first action was to phone two of our most reliable volunteers, Bev and Barb. They agreed to take care of Charlie at their home near Washington, D.C. while I scrambled to get our second mission off the ground. Before I knew it, I was boarding another plane to Kuwait.

Waking up to thunderous revs of passing motorcycles, it took me a few seconds to get my bearings. I realized I was in the Plaza Athenee Hotel as soon as I spotted, high on the opposite wall, the decal depicting a mosque. It was the arrow beneath it, which pointed toward the ceiling that had caught my attention the night before. When the bellman deposited my suitcases inside the room, I had asked him what the arrow signified.

"The arrow points east toward Mecca, for when it's time to pray," Sanjeewa explained.

Prayers were not on my mind when I jumped out of bed and pushed back the heavy, room-darkening drapes. Harsh desert sunlight burst through the window, nearly knocking me over. I squinted against the overpowering brightness to take in a sea of tan. There wasn't even a distinct break along the horizon where the waters of the Persian Gulf ended and the sky began. This could get monotonous real fast.

Because I was planning to be in Kuwait City for one day longer than on the last trip, I got a visa at the airport when I arrived. I had done some research prior to departing to see if there were any animal welfare organizations I could visit, and I learned there was one called "PAWS" outside the city. I sent an e-mail introducing myself, and one of their volunteers, Brenda Nielsen, had generously responded with an invitation to bring me to the shelter. We arranged to meet after breakfast in the hotel lobby.

An hour's drive through the desert is long indeed when the eye has nothing but sand to fall on. Occasional visual relief was provided by dilapidated wooden trailers that were separated by several miles. Situated about twenty feet off the highway, each trailer stood open at one end, displaying shelves filled with what appeared to be an assortment of food and other household products, a Kuwaiti version of 7-Eleven. By the time we reached the animal shelter, it seemed as if we'd found an oasis in the vast desert.