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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By Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

 

 

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Loss presents a unique and somewhat ambiguous dilemma for humans. Those left behind
are confronted with a stream of untapped emotions. Life lingers between two spaces – the space
of the past when everything was normal, and the space that floats somewhere between what was then
and what is now. The present doesn’t feel like the present because we don’t want to accept the
reality of what has been lost and what will be our daily routine as we struggle to get through the
minutes of each day. It’s like being stuck in quicksand; you continually struggle to find footing,
while being surrounded by uncontrollable emotions.
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Your heart and mind are trapped. Facing the circumstances of the loss is agonizing, yet
you understand that staying in such a dark place will not honor the love and life of your beloved
4-legged family member nor is it healthy for the sufferer.
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Rest for the moment is unattainable. Sleep comes with too many dreams that are both happy and sorrowful.
Laughter, joy, even hunger stands frozen.
Moving forward isn’t yet attainable. However, we know eventually we can travel beyond the
yesterdays and focus on the tomorrows.

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Right now we don’t know how to do that. Still we are hopeful we will get there sooner or
later. Remaining stuck is not an option. It is too sad, too tumultuous. Most of all staying in such
deep grief does not nor will not allow us to celebrate and honor the amazing gift we were given
through Bailey.
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He was our “Joy Boy”. He would want us to wake each morning with delight and be grateful for all that stands before us.

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He would want us to continue to love, to celebrate the moment of throwing a bright green tennis ball or plunge into the lake for a marvelous swim.
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He would want us to be fully alive enjoying the wonders of each day especially remembering the wet kisses of his long, sticky tongue.
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He would want us to be his “joy” parents.
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We promise we will get to that point, Bailey. Just not today.
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Love,
Mom and Dad

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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by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

HUNTER BAILEY of FARGO

11/29/2006 – 02/23/2018

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Hopefully you can bear with me for a bit. It will take several days and even more attempts to get
my thoughts and feelings down into some understandable form. As I try to write tonight through my
tears it has now been one day, seven hours and 47 minutes since we had to put our beloved lab and
service dog, Hunter Bailey, to sleep.
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To say our hearts are broken and we are sad is too simplistic. We can’t put into words the entire impact of this loss.
It took us so suddenly. We had no time to prepare.
We took Bailey into the Colorado State Veterinary Hospital at 8 a.m. Friday morning, and left without
him later that afternoon.
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For over six hours we sat and waited for some news on Bailey and his tests. It became evident
four hours later that something wasn’t quite right. We couldn’t get any updates and were told that the
doctors were still reviewing the tests. Finally, around 2:15 in the afternoon the doctors met with us. We
could tell by their faces something was wrong, but mostly Bailey wasn’t with them, which has never
happened on past exams.
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Moving to a small room, we were told that Bailey had prostate cancer that had
moved through his entire body. Since he had been neutered as a young dog, this was highly unusual.
There was nothing they could do to stop it. The cancer had spread too far for any surgery and no
medications would be effective at this stage of development.
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Our shock made it difficult to process or ask appropriate questions. The biggest ones were: “Is
he in pain?” Answer: “Yes.” “Can the pain be controlled/managed?” Answer: “Not well.” “How long
might he have?” Answer: “Maybe a month, two at best.” “Would there be quality of life?” Answer:
“Unlikely.” Other problems with clots and small tumors that could move or burst at any time made the
situation even worse.
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Since, in only three short days Bailey began having difficulty walking and having
bowel movements it became clear the cancer had taken over his body and left him in severe pain and
physical distress. We had little choice but to do what was right for our cherished and loyal companion of
eleven years. The decision was beyond gut wrenching. We had no time to process what had happened,
what was happening, and what was the best and most humane course of action for Bailey.
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We now live in a world somewhere between yesterday and tomorrow. We have put away his toys
and blankets. His feeding bowlshave left their space in the house to sit on cold, garage shelves. Sadly, we can’t seem to put away his
time schedule in our minds. Getting up in the morning, taking walks, evening feedings are still present.
Looking for him around the house, especially anytime we eat. These things will dim with time.
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However, Bailey’s love, his joyous spirit, his devoted loyalty and desire to please, and most of all his
tender spirit will remain with us.
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I think it truly is accurate to say, “GOD is DOG, and DOG certainly is GOD”. Thank you, Bailey, for being our precious four-legged child.
You are and forever will be loved and missed.
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PUPPY LOVE AND CRAZINESS

Filed Under Dogs, Pets, PTSD, Service Dogs, Tears, Tears of a Warrior, Wounded Warriors | Comments Off on PUPPY LOVE AND CRAZINESS

by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

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            So you think you want to bring home a new puppy. You know, one of those wiggly, darling, sweet looking bundles of joy. They appear amazing innocent in the entire plethora of internet pictures, advertisements, and billboards. Yep, you definitely believe one of these adorable, four-legged, loveable, furry cherubs known as “man’s best friend” will enhance your life and look great on your next Christmas card.  And, you aren’t totally oblivious of what it might take to raise one of these creatures.  You’ve had puppies before, of course. You may have been much younger and more patient at the time. 

You understand that this energetic whippersnapper will take a pretty good amount of time to potty train, learn new commands, and not bolt at the first slight opening of every door in your home. Hiding any and every item that might go into the puppy’s mouth including expensive eye glasses could end in an inflated doggy hospital visit – sure to cost you an arm and a leg. This will be essential to your pocket book and your endearing, four-legged child’s health. Oh, and did I mention how much puppies love the leather seats of your new truck’s interior.

 

If your adorable, small creature is going to grow into a huge, muscle bound tank, like my brother’s black lab, Mato, life becomes even more fun to control. Things like not allowing this boiler of energy to greet others, especially children and the elderly, by approaching them like a freight train and jumping full force onto their chests. This will be crucial to avoid unpleasant verbal encounters or even law suits. Of course that once tiny bundle of fur has no clue that he has grown into a ninety pound bruiser of a beast.

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Oh, and don’t forget that if you have other household pets, bringing a new four-legged nipper into the pack will require an immense amount of patience, both for you and your other domestic companion. My brother, John, wanted to have another pal for his aging lab, Wyatt. We did something similar with our beloved older lab, Chase, when we brought Hunter Bailey into our abode, and told John, how Bailey helped bring new life back to Chase’s daily routines. It actually, we believed, gave Chase a new lease on life and kept him agile and healthy for several more years. To be honest, Chase did not fully support this perspective. Bailey, however, kept Chase’s competitive spirit active.  Chase would not allow his new “buddy” to ever get an edge on any ball, bird, or swimming event.

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However, in our limited experience we forgot one significant point. Just like kids, all dogs are not alike, and Mato (Lakota for Bear) was absolutely not like Bailey. Bailey, as the younger dog, was quiet, subservient, and a fairly mild lab compared to when we raised Chase.  Chase was more like Mato, impulsive exhaustingly active, and stubborn as hell. My brother’s older dog, Wyatt, has always been a gentle people pleaser, more like Bailey. Poor, innocent Wyatt had no clue what a new puppy would bring to his world.

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 Today, Wyatt has extreme doggie PTSD from his adopted brother, Mato. Having a huge puppy leaping on him throughout the day, pulling on his ears and legs to induce play, or taking more than one dog’s share of food would be traumatic for any aging canine.

So, what does this story have to do with Post Traumatic Stress of an aging military veteran, one might ask? Bringing a new puppy into your quiet, tranquil home may generate more stress and anxiety than you ever imagined. Just ask my brother, John. He now refers to his beloved puppy, Mato, as a Weapon of Mass Destruction. Need I say more…

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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

DOGS CAN’T PLUCK TEARS

Filed Under Dogs, Pets, Plucking Tears | Comments Off on DOGS CAN’T PLUCK TEARS

by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

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We have written several blogs on the significance of animals in bettering our lives and making our days easier to move through. But what happens when the guardian of our days is left behind? What happens when their beloved human is no longer around to protect, love, and be loved?

When Dog’s can’t “pluck tears” how do they grieve? How do they get over the loss of their best friend? Few of us consider how to support a trusted four-legged companion through the grieving process. Treats won’t take away the ache in the stomach. A walk may be distracting for a time, but it will never be the same without their best friend along. An animal, much like many of us humans, cannot understand or accept the finality of never being with, seeing, or being hugged and stroked by the one person who has been their mainstay for their years on earth. All our four-legged sentinels knows for sure is that special person is not around.

 

So they wait, and remain hopeful that someday that beloved master will once again appear. Such heartbreak can not be explained to those who are not animal lovers. Only a person who has been blessed to have shared time with a loyal companion will be able to comprehend the massiveness of the loss, the intensity of the sorrow, and the endlessness of the Hope that one day they will meet again to be together. 

Today, I ask that you say a prayer of remembrance and peace for all of our animal family that have suffered such a profound loss. I believe somewhere beyond our sight and understanding we are all surrounded by angels of different breeds and types. They hear us, feel our sadness, and enfold us in wings of comfort.

Since we can’t “Pluck their Tears” perhaps we can at least offer a bit of comfort and extra love.

NOTE:  Picture is of Jon Tumilson Navy Seal… Died August 6, 2011 and his dog… Labrador retriever “Hawkeye”

STAYING OUT OF THE SAD SACK

Filed Under Combat PTSD, Family, Healing Waters, Peace, Pets, PTSD treatment, Tears of a Warrior, War | Comments Off on STAYING OUT OF THE SAD SACK

 

by Janet J. Seahorn

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A few weeks ago we had the rare opportunity for my family to get together and spend some quality time floating, fishing, and just chilling out in Wyoming.

 

 

During one of our chats, my brother, a Vietnam Navy vet, started talking about how hard it is to stay out of the “Sad Sack”, especially when his PTSD starts rearing it’s nasty head.

 

 

Although it is not realistic to expect that any of us can totally avoid jumping into this particular “sack”, it is wise to try and do something more inspiring than hanging out in the land of gloom.

 

 

Go for a walk, listen to music, write, or take up pottery or painting… or fishing. Anything that can help take your mind off of the misery.

 

One Vietnam vet I recently heard from talked about some of the projects he has done and continues to do for the children in Vietnam.

 

 

So far he has built one kindergarden in honor of his best friend who was killed in combat forty years ago. He has another one in process, and has helped do the fund raising and building of a library to honor another high school classmate killed during the same conflict. By giving something positive back to the world, he declares, allows him to keep his ghosts in line. Gosh, organizing, fund raising, and constructing these amazing projects is a pretty impressive way to stay out of the Sad Sack.

 

I must admit that some of our sibling conversations made me go into the “Jovial, Laughing Sack” which seemed to annoy the others in the car just a much as if I were in the Sad Sack.

 

Seems like when only one person in the group finds a subject humorous, others give you that disgusting look that says “stuff” the mirth. Dang, now I couldn’t open my Sad Sack and couldn’t stay in my Laughing Sack, which, by the way, made me burst into even more hilarity

 

At any rate, the whole point of this message is that we live in and wear many sacks throughout our days. Some we consciously choose, a few tackle us when we least expect them, throwing our emotions into chaos. The challenge is to get out of the bad stuff as quickly as possible.

 

 

The lesson is to trust our faith and strength, realizing that just as the crappy stuff sometimes engulfs us, the wonderful, comical, and joyful is waiting for us to return to the good stuff. In a recent blog, Ancient Wisdom, we wrote about being strong.

 

So here it is, being strong will not prevent you from somersaulting into the Sad Sack, however, being strong will be the only thing that will get you out into something better.

 

You have the power and strength to reduce the size of your sacks, whichever ones you choose.  Good Luck.

SHELTER DOGS AND PTSD VETS

Filed Under Combat PTSD, Dogs, Life, Love, Pets, PTSD treatment, Service Dogs, Tears of a Warrior, War, Wisdom | Comments Off on SHELTER DOGS AND PTSD VETS

 by Janet J. Seahorn

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       It is such a privilege to write our blogs and then hear back from some of our readers. The blog on “Tears of a Mother” brought many wonderful comments. One such reader sent this message which made me smile. He wrote:

                    
A SHORT STORY. MY WIFE AND I HAVE BEEN MARRIED FOR 40 YEARS. WE ARE HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS AND WHEN I GOT HOME FROM MY LAST HOSP STAY FOR A PANIC ATTACK, I ASKED HER WHY SHE HAS STAYED WITH ME FOR SO LONG. HER EXACT WORDS WERE. “I KNEW YOU WERE A CHANGED PERSON WHEN YOU GOT HOME. HER FRIENDS AND FAMILY SAID I WAS DAMAGED. SHE TOLD THEM THAT THE MAN IS SCARED OF EVERYTHING AROUND HIM. AND THAT SHE LOVED ME”. I DO NOT TRAVEL TOO FAR WITHOUT MY WIFE. I CALL HER MY HANDLER.

            Isn’t that just the sweetest compliment he gave his wife, “my handler”, which, as you can see, he stated with genuine love and gratitude.  His message reminded me of a very endearing commercial for “shelter” dogs we have here in Colorado. It starts out, “Don’t pity a shelter dog — honor him. Shelter dogs aren’t broken, they’ve just experienced a little more of life. In many ancient times they would be considered wise.  They are the ones with tales to tell and stories to write.  They have faced life’s challenges with courage and pride, and survived with honor and dignity”. 

           Sounds like many of our amazing vets. Just like these shelter dogs who have experienced a bit more than their canine siblings, veterans aren’t broken, damaged, or to be pitied. Most have gathered a deeper wisdom regarding life. And, yes, they have tales to tell and stories to write. With courage and pride they continue to live every day of their lives with honor and dignity.  

Shelter dogs and vets. Golly, what a wonderful way to view the  challenges of life…and PTSD.

Dog—–God

Filed Under Combat PTSD, Dogs, Pets, Tears of a Warrior, Treating PTSD | Comments Off on Dog—–God

by Janet J. Seahorn

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Look into the face of your loving four-legged pet, and I would bet you would see the eyes of GOD.  A being so unconditionally loving and faithful, that nothing or no one could keep it from being near our sides.  We have written several times about the value of pets.  For someone living with Posttraumatic Stress or a serious Traumatic Brain Injury, pets can offer a sense of comfort and well-being that are beyond modern medications; and the side effects are far more positive.

 We get many comments and videos from our readers testifying to the upbeat effects their pets have had on them.  This week a friend sent us a one we had not seen before.  We thought many of you would enjoy viewing this short and touching piece.  We also included another written story that has appeared over the internet on many occasions.  More than likely, most of you have read it, but every time I see it, and am tempted to delete without reading… something pulls me to the picture and I begin viewing it once more, ending always with tear filled Kleenexes. 

You see, this last piece is a true chronicle of what many of our service people and their loving pets sacrifice for our country.  Not everyone understands that pets pay a high price for their masters’ deployment.  Yet, they do, silently, patiently waiting for that one special person to return.  There is no greater joy than the homecoming of a beloved member of a family. 

So here is to DOG and to GOD:  D = Devotion;   O = Omnipresent;   G = Goodness/Gift; in any order it means the same thing.

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