No Buddy Left Behind: Bringing U.S. Troops' Dogs and Cats Safely Home From the Combat Zone (6 page)

"What I lack in experience," I wrote, "I make up for with determination" and ended the e-mail with "Keep yourself and Charlie safe!" The only thing I could do now was to wait for Eddie's reply.

I returned to my backlog of work and throughout the day kept checking my inbox. When I left work at 6:00 p.m., I still hadn't heard from Eddie. Late that night I sat in front of an idle computer not knowing what the next step was. It seemed I had reached the end of the road, unable to build a bridge between Iraq and the United States that a dog could cross. Nevertheless, I wasn't willing to give up just yet. Exhausted, I turned the computer off and went to bed.

The next morning at breakfast I noted the newspaper's October date. It had been barely forty-eight hours since my quest began, one that had completely derailed my pre-Eddie life. As I scanned the pages, stories concerning Iraq assumed much more importance; articles and photos that I would have quickly glanced over or ignored before, I now studied with consuming interest. This man and dog caught up in the conflict gave me a connection to Iraq I never expected to have.

When I got to work, I called or e-mailed all my contacts who had extensive experience in emergency management, logistics, and international travel or who had served in the military. They came up with some of the same ideas I had already explored, but when all was discussed, they, too, had no answers. Each conversation ended with the suggestion that I should give up.

At noon my co-workers went off to lunch while I ordered in a sandwich instead. Just as I swallowed the last bite, a familiar ping indicated that an e-mail had arrived.

Its him! Eddie has replied!

I faced the screen with mixed emotions, somewhere between excitement and apprehension. My finger hovered over the "Enter" key. "Please make this be okay," I prayed.

"This is such amazing news!" Eddie's first words burst onto the screen. "I'm at home on leave, in Phoenix. This is by far the greatest news I've had to date. Oh, man, this is awesome. I'm so totally stoked right now. Thank you for offering your help!"

I couldn't help but smile at Eddie's heart-stirring response. It proved that he'd been grasping for any bit of hope he could hang onto. In his shoes I, too, would be holding out for a miracle. There was no way I could disappoint Eddie now. The pressure on me kicked into high gear, but, knowing I work best when faced with a good challenge, I believed I'd find a way.

I replied to Eddie immediately, hoping to catch him before he left the computer. His leave from Iraq could not have come at a better time. The sooner my growing list of questions was answered, the quicker I could get the ball rolling. With renewed energy, I sent Eddie my phone number and asked him to call me ASAP.

He called eight minutes later.

No longer just words on a screen, Eddie's voice came through with a jolt of reality. Buried in logistical details, I had almost forgotten that I was dealing with a person who was risking his life every day for me and my country. As Eddie's story unfolded, I grew more impressed with his persistence and the earnest mission he'd undertaken to save his buddy.

From that point on, each decision we made would result in the life or death of Charlie. Suddenly I felt proud to be working for SPCA International. People in our organization didn't say, "Sorry, it's impossible." We might not succeed in getting Charlie home, but we sure as hell wouldn't go down without a good fight.

"Tell me everything you can about your efforts to date," I said. "Maybe there's a lead I can work on."

"There's one lady whose name I promised not to give out. She got a lot of military mascots out of Iraq, but so far, she's lost almost as many dogs as she saved due to her lack of resources. If she helped Charlie, the handoff would have to be done on short notice, and I can't just grab a truck and drive him myself. Military rules on vehicle use are really strict. She relies on local nationals for transport, so the person driving is probably afraid of dogs. If anything went wrong, they'd be just as likely to take the money and abandon Charlie."

"Would it be possible for me to speak with this woman? She might know something that will help us. I promise that her identity will remain confidential."

"I can give you her phone number, but please don't share it with anyone. I sure don't want somebody getting hurt or killed trying to save Charlie."

That sounded ominous. Animal rescue work is often risky, but in a country reeling from years at war, serious danger was a reality. Were we at SPCA International really prepared for this?

I called the number that Eddie gave me and left a message describing myself as someone who wanted to help SGT Watson get his dog to Arizona. I assured her that any information we shared would be kept confidential, and I left my number.

Later, after I finished wrapping up my work for the day, I walked down the hall and knocked on JD's office door.

"You got a minute? I wanted to give you an update on the soldier and his dog."

"Great! I was wondering how that was going. Make any progress?"

"Not really, but I did talk to Eddie this afternoon."

"Really?" JD picked up his water bottle, took a long sip, and put it down slowly. His mouth did that tight-lipped thing that I had learned was his way of collecting himself when he was concerned about something.

"Don't worry. I didn't call long distance to Baghdad," I said, laughing. "Eddie is home on leave in Phoenix for two weeks."

"That's good timing," he said, his mouth relaxing. "So what did you learn?"

I reviewed everything I had discovered, both positive and negative, and I didn't leave out the dangers we would be facing if we took on the project.

The woman whom Eddie had mentioned had called me back earlier in the day. Her heart-rending stories made it clear that we needed money, firm commitment, flexibility, a lot of luck, and a strong heart to attempt any rescues out of Iraq. Without having heard her experiences firsthand, I suspected that this project would have been doomed from the start. Forewarned is forearmed, my mother used to say, and in this instance she couldn't have been more correct.

JD leaned back in his chair and folded his hands on top of his head. "In all honesty, now that we know the odds, do you really think we can help Eddie?"

"I don't know. But I sure as hell want to continue trying."

"Then that's what you've got to do. If anyone can make it happen, Terri, it will be you."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I don't feel worthy of it at the moment."

JD thought for a moment. "Getting Charlie out of Iraq will be an expensive endeavor, and we'll have to raise funds to cover the costs. Since Eddie is in Phoenix, let's take advantage of that. Why don't you go there and get an interview with him on tape? Eddie will plead Charlie's case much better than anyone else could. We'll put his video on the SPCA International website and give it the best publicity we can."

"That's a great idea. I'll arrange it right away."

On November 1, 2007, I sat outside a Phoenix recording studio waiting for Eddie to arrive. A car pulled up, and a young man sporting a buzz cut and Army uniform got out and walked toward me, his back straight and his head held high. He was the first soldier I had ever met who was on active duty and serving in a country at war. I stood and smiled as he approached. A handshake seemed too impersonal, so I gave Eddie a big hug.

A short while later Eddie sat in front of a plain blue background as the camera zoomed in on his face and shoulders, recording my questions and his poignant answers. Despite his calm demeanor and a soldier's unemotional expression, the camera had no trouble capturing the incredible bond that had formed between this infantryman and a stray Iraqi dog.

"What will happen to Charlie if you don't get him out of Iraq?" I asked.

"If Charlie were put back out on the street, no doubt about it, he'd never survive," Eddie said with a faraway look in his eyes as if visualizing the harsh life Charlie would have to face on his own. "This is a dog that has been cared for since he was a tiny pup. He has no idea how to fend for himself. If someone were not there to give him something to eat, he wouldn't know what to do when he got hungry. He's never lived with a pack of dogs, and finding one that would accept him now is unlikely. If Charlie had to depend on himself to survive, there is one thing that'd happen for sure."

Eddie stopped to clear his throat before proceeding. "Charlie would die if he were left on his own. For a dog that has such an amazing personality and is so devoted to us soldiers, it would be tragic to let his life end like that."

"Why is it so important to bring Charlie home?"

Eddie held back for a moment, looked down, and folded his hands in his lap before looking back at me. Letting out a deep sigh, Eddie raised one hand to rub his forehead, as if trying to erase the frown that had suddenly formed. I sensed that he was stalling long enough to compose himself. I will never forget the determination in his eyes when he finally answered my question.

"The reason it's so important for me to save Charlie is that I made him a promise." Eddie paused. His eyes captivated me with their piercing sincerity. "When you're a soldier, every second of every day you stand beside your buddies while your lives are in constant danger. You know these guys will die for you to save your life. And you're just as ready to die for them. So when we make a promise to each other, we keep that promise, no matter what." Eddie pronounced each word distinctly, emphasizing his point.

"We take Charlie out on patrols, and more than once he's proven that he'd lay down his own life to protect us. Charlie is one of us. He's more than just an ordinary mutt off the streets of Iraq. That dog has more guts than most people I know, and he deserves to live.

"In the Army we live by the motto `No buddy gets left behind.' That motto applies to Charlie, too." Eddie's voice broke on the last word. He stopped for a second, swallowed, and looked straight into my eyes. When he next spoke, his voice came through loud and strong.

"Leaving Charlie in Iraq is not an option. I promised him I'd bring my buddy home."

The recording studio fell silent. Eddie's response brought everyone and everything to a standstill. Relieving the intensity of the moment, I gently cleared my throat and asked the crew if we could take a five-minute break. Then I reached into my briefcase and pulled out a Kleenex.

When the recording session was finished, Eddie took me out to lunch. It was a wonderful opportunity to get to know him better. I couldn't help but like this soldier. After he dropped me off at the airport, I couldn't stop thinking about the incredible devotion Eddie had shown to Charlie. At that moment I vowed that I would not stop until the day I could wrap my arms around Charlie's neck and whisper in his ear, "Welcome home!"

SPCA International put together a five-minute video from our taping session and posted it on the website. Deciding that we needed an official name for the campaign, we considered several until we unanimously agreed on "Operation Baghdad Pups." Striking artwork was added to the web campaign, along with Eddie's story and the video. Almost immediately donations began rolling in.

On this side of the world, progress was being made, but the actual rescue plan was still missing.

Charlie on guard duty Eddie Watson