Aug

6

WEAPON OF MASS DESTRUCTION

Filed Under Aging, Brody, Dog is God, Dogs, Joy Challenge, Pets, Service Dogs, Tears of a Warrior, Trooper, WMD | Comments Off on WEAPON OF MASS DESTRUCTION

 

By Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D.

 

Recently I bought a WMD (Weapon of Mass Destruction).  It was something Tony and I have discussed and thought about for a very long time.  Getting a hold of a WMD can be expensive and usually requires some research about the seller, type, even color.  There are days I question my decision as well as my sanity.  Was this choice a wise move or one made in a moment of weakness or total impulsiveness?

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My home has been transformed into a combat zone.  I can’t leave for even a few minutes or the destruction could be massive.  This weapon can’t be left alone for any length of time.  It must stay in a secure and yet environmentally comfortable space.  Neighbors and friends sometimes stop over just to get a peek at it.  Some admire it and others are afraid to get too close just in case it might detonate itself. Some may also wonder why I would get such an item at my age and stage in life.  There are days I ask myself the same question; other times I merely feel bad that they don’t possess such a handsome and amazing weapon.

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The weapon often gives me a sense of comfort just to know it is there, to touch it, to think about its remarkable potential. I may have failed to mention that even though my WMD is pretty wonderful it was and is not inexpensive. Proper nutrition, check-ups to make sure it is in tip top working condition, enough exposure to clean air, etc.   Trooper, Tony’s service dog often wonders why we ever brought such an item into our peaceful home.  He wants to know if and when we might take it back. You see, Trooper has to watch it very carefully just in case it explodes as it frequently does at any unexpected moment.  He never had to put up with such an object even when he was being raised in prison and his training never included how to deactivate such a WMP.

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By now you may be guessing what I’m talking about, or you may know exactly what I’m describing. It has four-legs, a silky black coat, incredibly sharp baby teeth that can shred a stuffed toy or slipper in a matter of minutes. This four-legged, miniature tornado has wallpapered my front room with toilet paper reminding me of the shenanigans we did in high school when we toilet papered friends’ trees leaving them to clean up after our mess.  Maybe he is retribution for my younger days.  Even with all of these challenges this WMP is so friggin adorable especially when he is asleep.  We even gave him a name, Brody… short for brother.

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It is fascinating how we can so totally love this destructive little ####.  Tony sometimes asks why Trooper is such a super sweet, well-behaved young man. I remind him Trooper was raised in prison where there weren’t a lot of opportunities for a puppy to get into trouble. There were no kitchen counters with food where he could have managed to remove the yummy contents.  Probably there weren’t many smelly slippers to destroy, and if you misbehave there may have been bigger consequences.  WOW…. Maybe I can send Brody to jail for at least a year of training. Confinement might not be as exciting for him, but it would give us a much needed rest.  Trooper is extremely in favor of this idea.

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Sep

14

EYORE IS SMILING: WELCOMING TROOPER

Filed Under Bailey, Dog is God, Dogs, Hearing Loss, Heroes With Hearing Loss, Quilts of Valor, Service Dogs, Tears of a Warrior, Trauma, Trooper, War, War Dogs, Welcome Home | Comments Off on EYORE IS SMILING: WELCOMING TROOPER

by Janet J. Seahorn, PH.D
“Grief is the last act of love we have to give to those we loved. Where there is deep grief, there was great love.” It has been exactly six months and fourteen days since our service dog and beloved family companion, Bailey, died. We have written several pieces about our loss, but today is a time of rejoicing.
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Two weeks ago, Tony, traveled to Boston to be introduced and train with his new hearing service dog, Trooper. He is a male, black Labrador. I could hear the lightness, the total joy in Tony’s voice the moment he first saw and touched Trooper. He was so concerned Trooper, perhaps, wouldn’t like him. Not to worry, they were instant friends. I’m pretty sure that Chase and Bailey had set things up from their perch in Heaven.
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There will always be that crack in our hearts for those we have loved and lost. It will never go away, and truthfully, I don’t want it to be fully gone. The crack, the lump in the throat, the isolated tear drop in the eye, simply reminds me of how blessed, how immensely fortunate I am to have such amazing people and pets in my life. Each has given me a sense of joy, a gift of friendship, and a genuine endowment of love.
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Today we begin a new journey of possibilities, of hope, and of unconditional love with Tony’s new service companion, Trooper. We look forward for the opportunity to spend our days with another special being. We look forward for another opportunity to open our hearts to this beautiful boy. We are excited to wake in the morning, move through the day, and say goodnight in the evening with Trooper by our sides.
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Oh, and I think I told you that Trooper is trained for the hearing impaired. In the morning, when the alarm goes off, his job is to jump in the bed on top of Tony to wake him up. I’m not so sure I look forward to sixty pounds of enthusiasm that early in the day. And, yes, even Eyore is smiling.
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Mar

11

Best Friends

Filed Under Aging, American Patriotism, Combat PTSD, Dog is God, Dogs, Happiness, Healing, Military, Pets, PTSD, Service Dogs, TBI & PTSD, Tears of a Warrior, Tribute, Veterans, War, War Dogs, Wounded Warriors | Comments Off on Best Friends

Guest Blog by John DiCiacco

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I dedicate my short story to all the Men and Women that came home from
war and discovered that the War and all its tragic memories came home
with them.
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Did you ever wonder why God spelled backwards is Dog.  I used to ponder
that thought a great deal, that is until I met my first Service Dog
Wyatt.  Named him after Wyatt Earp.  Wyatt was not a Registered Service
Dog you see and he didn’t go to School and get a Degree to be a Service
Dog.  To me, though, Wyatt was much more than a Service Dog.  He was my
Savior, my Salvation and he was given to me by God.
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Wyatt came into my Life about Sixteen Years ago and until his death at
only Eleven he remained a Faithful Companion and Confident.  As a
Vietnam Veteran living with PTS, Wyatt was my Soul Mate, so when he
crossed over, a part of me had died as well.  Worse yet, many of the
emotions I felt when I came home in February 1970 was suddenly staring
me in the face.  Guilt, abandonment, distrust and yes, even anger.  I
threatened to crawl into the bottle again, that is until Wyatt showed up
in a vision and I remembered how good my life was with Wyatt Dog and
God.
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I now have another service dog that ditched school altogether and
became home schooled just like his older brother, Wyatt.  His name is
Mato, which means “Bear” in the Lakota Indian Language.  The “Bear” has
recently turned five and yes, Mato has taken up the legacy of what Wyatt
had meant to me in the past and together we are making our own memories.
Did I mention that both Wyatt and Mato are labs and both of them are
black.
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Life is good with God and Dog.
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The following words come from a short tune I heard a while back and it
is dedicated to dogs.
“You are my Buddy, my Pal and my Friend, so wherever you go I just want
you to know you are my Buddy, my Pal and my Friend.”
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In memory of another God/Dog, my beautiful nephew, Bailey.  Bailey
crossed over this February and Bailey was the proud service dog to his
Buddy, Pal and fFriend, Tony.  By the way, Bailey was also a black lab.
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One of Gods Great Gifts.
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God Bless You and God Bless America.
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Jul

12

CHASE’S MEADOW

Filed Under Aging, Dogs, Family, Fishing Therapy, Healing Waters, Journey, Life, Love, Peace, Pets, PTSD, Service Dogs, Tears of a Warrior, Tears of Joy, Veterans | Comments Off on CHASE’S MEADOW

by Tony & Janet Seahorn

            The human heart and mind are amazing in their capacity to experience intense sadness and abundant gratitude at the same time. That lump in the throat is still there as are the tears that cloud my eyes. Yet, the weight of the death of our wonderful Chase seems to be a bit lighter.

            Earlier this week, we visited Chase’s most beloved mountain meadow, high on the Snowy Range in southern Wyoming. It is a beautiful, alpine meadow filled with wild flowers and a running brook. This is the place we chose to spread his ashes and place a stone memorial on a wooded ridge overlooking the peaceful valley below. 

            We promised to make this journey after the early summer snow melt and before the wildflowers were in full bloom.

            His very essence now glides in the winds and rolls gently with the flowing water. White and yellow flowers line his final path. He is at peace, as are we. And younger brother Bailey still romps through the brightly colored grasses chasing after his cherished tennis ball – a reminder that joy is always present around and within our souls.

            As we paid our final respects it seemed as if Chase was giving us his final message:

I am now in my meadow; my ashes white as angels’ wings float with the Wind and flow through the mountain streams to places I never ran in life. 

Peace and beauty will always surround me with a green and white and purple blanket of sweet columbines.        

This is where I was finally meant to be.

Therefore, honor me not with tears of sadness, but with hearts of joyfulness.

                              Remember me with stories and laughter.                               

And most of all know that as much as you loved me I loved you even more.

 

Black Forest Chase

April 23, 1999 – January 4, 2013

Apr

29

Angels Among Us

Filed Under Treating PTSD | 2 Comments

columbines-chaseIt was almost night again. He got through one more day, but it’s the nights that we worry about. He gave us all of his guns, just to be safe; yet, we all silently understood that life could easily be disposed of in many ways. A life that seemed to have lost its joy, its hope, its sense of purpose. The year before he discovered he had prostate cancer. Surgery took care of future problems in that area. Shortly after that he lost his wife. Divorce can be devastating – feeling even more so than death, because your loved one is gone. Gone of her own free will, finally realizing that enough is enough. His sense of worth and caring is now at an all-time low. A few months later he came down with a serious case of West Nile virus. His body’s ravaged immune system made it impossible for him to work; he lost his job. Too much loss in so little time left his life tested by all the ghosts of the past – the ghosts from a place long ago, a place called Vietnam. The question ever present was how could he sustain the pain, grief, the disease? It was a question that kept all of us awake through the darkness. Something needed to be done to help him feel life was worth living. And this is when the miracle occurred. An angel appeared in the form of a soft, uncoordinated, four-legged, black Labrador who was given the earthly name, Wyatt. The small cherub gave unconditional love and joy. Now, when the lonely man woke in the night, the angel’s crazy antics made him laugh; something he hadn’t done in a very long time. The angel gave him a chance at a new beginning, a new existence beyond the solitude. This new place was called Hope.

Animals have a way of helping us through our trauma.  Dogs, horses, cats… it really doesn’t matter just as long as the heart connection is made. The mental health professionals call it “animal therapy”.  I call this, “Angels Among Us”.

(In our prior blog, one of our readers related his “angel” story as follows):

“For years and years I would constantly be told to “let go” or “forget about it” when it came to Vietnam.  No one understood that I had relentlessly tried that, but it wouldn’t let go of me.  For many years I managed to drink away many of the symptoms; unfortunately, that worked too well and I became addicted to my ‘medication’.  I learned why that worked and was told by Dr Palmer that if he could prescribe any one medication that we both knew worked, it was alcohol, “but the side affects are a bitch” he said.
So, since 1996 I have been soberly searching for ways to handle the distress and disjointed aberrations of PTSD.  As a result, I have found that immediate changes of venue, (physical location) and distraction help me to regain some steadiness.  My second reliance is my dog, Babe, an Airedale that notices everything.  She has awakened me during nightmares and licks me in the middle of the night if she detects something is not right with me.  In exchange, I rely on her to know the safety of my surroundings.  When she is calm there is no need for me to be alarmed.”  (Mike MacDonald)

 

Angels calm our worst nightmares. They help us feel safer, saner – protected by a celestial, loving presence. We become braver because of their undying devotion.  Yes, there are many angels among us, and they are called Chase, Bailey, Wyatt, Cody, and Babe…