No Buddy Left Behind: Bringing U.S. Troops' Dogs and Cats Safely Home From the Combat Zone Read Free Page B

that his men were patrolling in one of the most unstable neighborhoods on the outskirts of Baghdad. Until the previous week his platoon had been lucky. SGT Watson wondered if that luck had worked against the men, perhaps encouraging them to feel almost invincible. On April 28, 2007, reality hit hard when their first soldier made the ultimate sacrifice and lost his life to an enemy bullet. Since then, life at the outpost had been pretty grim.
    SGT Watson's platoon occupied one portion of an Iraqi police station and shared responsibility for security operations with the police and the Iraqi Army. U.S. military operations took up most of the second floor. When the soldiers reached the top of the stairs, the first thing they saw was the guard desk.

    As soon as the familiar sound of boots and voices rose up the stairs, Watson let out a big sigh of relief. Smith came in first, holding a scrap of material that had been wrapped around something about the size of a big baked potato. He laid it on the desk and stood there grinning at Eddie.
    "Got a present for you, Watson," Smith said. The Sergeant looked down just as the cloth moved.
    "You got a rat in there or something?"
    "Naw, it's a puppy. He was hiding in a shelled-out building. When we entered to check it out, he took one look at us and started to follow. We tried to lose him, but he wasn't about to let us go. Stubborn little mutt-a real soldier."
    "What's he look like?"
    "Damn cute. You'll see."
    The guys circled around as Watson began to unfold the material. A flea jumped onto his arm. "Shit, that's all we need-a bunch of those critters in here."
    "We couldn't just leave him," Smith said. "Iraqis were all over the place, and they would have kicked his butt if they'd seen him. Besides, he's got guts, this dog. And he's just a little fella."
    The Sergeant pulled the puppy out of the tattered folds. A black head, back, and tail, plus a white ruff, chest, and belly made Watson wonder if the dog was a border collie. Black freckles were splattered up and down his legs and snout, and his ears flopped over at the halfway point. His eyes held an inquisitive intelligence, but they didn't disguise his pathetic state. Bone-skinny and covered with fleas, ticks, and filth, the puppy felt hot to the touch and shivered uncontrollably.
    "He's cute all right, but I don't think he's going to last long," Eddie said. He didn't want to encourage friendship with all those fleas that were crawling over the small animal, yet he couldn't help but pick the puppy up and cuddle him. "Poor mutt, you're a mess, aren't you?"
    Smith reached out and scratched behind the pup's comical ears, then ruffled the fur on his head.

    "We've got to get those fleas off you, buddy," he said.
    "Take him out back and give him a bath," Eddie said with a sigh of defeat.
    After two baths, the dirt and ticks were scrubbed away, but the fleas held their ground. One of the guys filled a bucket with JP8 diesel fuel.
    "Here, dip him in this. Those fleas will be dead suckers in no time."
    "Hey, you can't use that! You want to kill him?" Already SGT Watson felt himself getting attached to the dog.
    "We've got to do something," said the soldier with the bucket. "It's not like there's a pet store around here. It won't hurt him if we do it real quick. We'll just dunk him."
    So they did. And it worked.
    SGT Watson feared that the pup's biggest problem was that they were breaking all the rules by having him there. Included in the U.S. Military General Order 1A is a prohibition against befriending animals or keeping pets. If an unsympathetic officer found out the men had this dog, he could shoot it or make the men dump the puppy somewhere far from the outpost. One way or another, this little guy had a death warrant hanging over his head.
    "What are we going to call him?" Eddie asked.
    "Let's name him after our company."
    "Yeah, that's good." Eddie reached across the desk and stroked the puppy's wet chin. "Hey, little guy, your name is