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Therapy

4 Nov

     Afghanistan Without a Clue (AWAC) was created in August 2006 to chronicle my adventures on a one-year tour in Afghanistan.  In February 2007 fellow military members started contributing, and it became a massive job producing daily posts.  Most of us returned home in May 07.  I will keep AWAC running to provide information for folks deploying to Afghanistan, as well as for new readers who recently discovered the joys of the AWAC world.  I’ll post occasionally so the old-timers can keep tabs on my adjustment to life in the states, as well as any news I receive from Kabul.  If you are new to AWAC, the best thing is to start from the beginning.  Just wander over to the archives (they are over there to the left) and enjoy.  Be warned, there is a huge amount of stuff over there, and rumor has it that people have become addicted.  I can only hope.

   

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Bear

   

    I really don’t have much to write about in relation to Afghanistan or my cohorts.  Instead, I will write about the pups we are fostering.  I do this because I have to write about something, and if I must tie it to my time in Afghanistan (and I really don’t have to, since it’s my blog), I can always say it’s part of my therapy as I try to return to my old self.  I enjoy working with dogs, and even though it can be tiring, it is also invigorating.

 

 

Sosuke

   

     The last two weeks have been far too busy.  Not only are my days at work exceptionally full, the puppies add an extra layer of work before and after the work day.  I do seem to have it down to a science now.  Here’s how I start each day:

   

1.  Put my dogs out back.  This of course wakes the puppies, who start crying, since their fat little bellies are never full enough. 

2.  I come back inside and put the five pups in a box to carry them all outside.  I leave them out there in the vain hope they will do their duty outside instead of in their pen.

3.  Rush inside, fill a couple of baby bottles with their special milk, and place them in hot water to warm them up.

4.  Roll up the newspapers that line their pen, which are soaked and covered with little puppy treasures (love those euphemisms) and through the stenchly (my own word, copyrighted) papers in the garbage.

5.  Wipe the plastic lining up that was under the newspapers.

6.  Lay new newspapers.

7.  Rinse out the blankets they were sleeping on, since they are too stupid or too lazy to avoid pooping on them.

8.  Throw blankets in washing machine and set to go.

9.  Scoop dog food into three bowls for the pups, place in their pen

10. Go outside and call the pups.  They are actually smart enough to come when I call them. Drag them inside and place in pen.  In the early days, they just cried until I gave them their bottle, but now they have figure out they can dive into the food and enjoy, and dive they do, usually climbing into their bowls for maximum food intake velocity.

11.  Oops, need to go back outside and get Tiny, since he is afraid to climb the three steps into the house.

12.  Feed my dogs

13.  Get the bottles, grab a pup, sit on couch and start feeding (this is also the only time I’ve been able to watch anime lately).

14.  After feeding five pups, I rush to get ready for work, which I can usually do in under ten minutes.

15.  Grab a quick bowl of Cheerios.

16.  Go to work so I can recover.

 

Dieter

 

       Despite my impending breakdown from exhaustion, I love having the pups in the house.  Yes, they keep me hopping at times, but there is a great joy in watching them grow up healthy and loved, as opposed to dead and buried, which was the fate that awaited them.  There is no way they would have survived in a shelter without their mom, and thankfully they were pulled by a fellow dog rescuer, and through our grapevine, we were able to arrange transport quickly to our home, with help from Jancy who drove out to get them the same day we heard about them.

 

Bosley

   

     They are starting to develop their own personalities.  Bosley is the largest, and can be bossy and push the others around.  Bear is pure black, just a tad smaller, and a great climber.  He is also the most energetic, and loves to run around and wrestle.  Sosuke (pronounced SOOS kay) is the most vocal, almost indignant if I don’t pay him attention first.  Dieter (pronounced DEET er) and Diablo are the runts of the litter, very quiet, but very loving.  Dieter is Jancy’s baby, and Diablo is Ryan’s.

 

Diablo

 

     Tiny was pronounced completely free of heart worms today, and is also healthy enough to get neutered and have his teeth cleaned next week.  After that he will be put up for adoption.  Soon he will appear on the Pom Posse website (see my list of links in the left column), so if you want to adopt him, you can be the first to fill out an application.  He is at least ten years old I would guess, is not house trained, hates to walk on non-carpeted floors, can’t climb stairs, and barks if left alone.  He will follow you everywhere and wants to be with you, but is still very timid, showing signs of abuse in the past.  He likes to go for walks, but can only go for short distances before he gets winded.  He requires a special home with patient owners who will let him slowly adjust to his new life. Homes with little children or aggressive or overly playful dogs would not be a good match for him.

   

Tiny  

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Blog Watch:

 

     Here are two more blogs kind enough to link to AWAC. 

   

Marsha Loftus: The Road Home to Tennessee

http://www.beartribenet.com/marshaloftis/

      

Charlie Foxtrot

http://charliefoxtrotblog.blogspot.com/

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Steve Watch:

     No luck yet identifying Steve from the photo below.  Keep passing the word.

 

Pure, Concentrated Hatred (with a large dose of Stupid)

11 Nov

   

     Afghanistan Without a Clue (AWAC) was created in August 2006 to chronicle my adventures on a one-year tour in Afghanistan.  In February 2007 fellow military members started contributing, and it became a massive job producing daily posts.  Most of us returned home in May 07.  I will keep AWAC running to provide information for folks deploying to Afghanistan, as well as for new readers who recently discovered the joys of the AWAC world.  I’ll post every weekend so the old-timers can keep tabs on my adjustment to life in the states, as well as any news I receive from Kabul.  If you are new to AWAC, the best thing is to start from the beginning.  Just wander over to the archives (they are over there to the left) and enjoy.  Be warned, there is a huge amount of stuff over there, and rumor has it that people have become addicted.  I can only hope.

This puppy photo is completely unrelated to the following story

   

     I’ve been hearing a lot from Afghanistan lately, but most of the news is bad.  Today I learned that six American s were killed in an ambush, and earlier in the week a suicide bomber killed several government officials as well as many bystanders, including children.  Allah be praised!  Of course, even in America we have sickos who revel in hatred, all to the glory of their god.  For example . . .

     Here’s a story sent to me by Leta Carruth.  It shows that even in the USA, we have people so incomprehensibly lacking in even the most basic rudiments of human decency, that it isn’t really that far-fetched to say we have our people with the mental capacity to become the equivalent of the Taliban.   Some members of the Westboro Baptist Church (in Kansas) have found it spiritually uplifting to go to funerals of American servicemen and women, and rejoice that our warriors have died.  Wearing their “God hates fags” shirts, they literally rejoice that our people are getting killed.  Know why?  Because the USA doesn’t hate homosexuals enough, and therefore God is killing our people as punishment. 

     Normally I try to refrain from name-calling, but these tiny-brained wipers of other peoples’ bottoms deserve all the ridicule and disdain possible.  I won’t even waste time refuting the sorry excuse for logic these dolts use to justify their evil.  I can’t imagine there is a single AWAC reader, or for that matter any American (outside of the cultish confines of Westboro Baptist) who think either . . .

 

A.  God hates America, because we tolerate homosexuality, so he is killing our military members (hey, why not kill the politicians instead?)

or

B.  It’s a great idea to go to funerals and cheer that soldiers are dead.

   

     Yes, I know there are plenty who think God hates homosexuality.  I’ve made it clear in the past that I don’t agree, but at least those who hold his view aren’t out acting like hate-infested idiots at funerals, mocking those who have died for our country, sneering at the grieving families.  No, we are talking about a microscopically small number of people who are probably mentally ill.  But there is good news, and I’ll let you read about it in the following article:

From the MSNBC News Service

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21566280/

BALTIMORE - A grieving father won a nearly $11 million verdict against a fundamentalist church that pickets military funerals out of a belief that the war in Iraq is a punishment for America's tolerance of homosexuality.

     Albert Snyder sued the Kansas-based Westboro Baptist Church for unspecified damages after members demonstrated at the March 2006 funeral of his son, Marine Lance Cpl. Matthew Snyder, who was killed in Iraq.

     The federal jury first awarded $2.9 million in compensatory damages. It returned in the afternoon with its decision to award $6 million in punitive damages for invasion of privacy and $2 million for causing emotional distress.

     Snyder's attorney, Craig Trebilcock, had urged jurors to determine an amount "that says don't do this in Maryland again. Do not bring your circus of hate to Maryland again."

 

Church vows appeal
     The defense said it planned to appeal, and one of the church's leaders, Shirley Phelps-Roper, said the members would continue to picket military funerals.

"Absolutely; don't you understand this was an act in futility?" Phelps-Roper said.

Church members routinely picket funerals of military personnel killed in Iraq and Afghanistan, carrying signs such as "Thank God for dead soldiers" and "God hates fags."

     Snyder claimed the protests intruded upon what should have been a private ceremony and sullied his memory of the event.

The church members testified they are following their religious beliefs by spreading the message that soldiers are dying because America is too tolerant of homosexuality.

     “God promised dire outpourings of very painful wrath, and there’s nothing more painful than killing one of your children and that’s what’s going on in Iraq,” church founder Fred Phelps told msnbc.com in a 2006 interview. “That’s what we’re preaching and the forum of choice to deliver such a message, obviously, is the funeral of the kid that’s been blown to smithereens."

     Attorneys for the church maintained in closing arguments Tuesday that the burial was a public event and that even abhorrent points of view are protected by the First Amendment, which guarantees freedom of speech and religion.

Several states have passed laws regarding funeral protests, and Congress has passed a law prohibiting such protests at federal cemeteries. But the Maryland lawsuit is believed to be the first filed by the family of a fallen serviceman.

The church and three of its leaders — Phelps and his two daughters, Phelps-Roper and Rebekah Phelps-Davis, 46 — were found liable for invasion of privacy and intent to inflict emotional distress.

     The group is confident the award will be overturned on appeal, Phelps said.

     "Oh, it will take about five minutes to get that thing reversed," he said.

 

Verdict ‘exceeds ... worth of the defendants’
     Earlier, church members staged a demonstration outside the federal courthouse. Phelps held a sign reading "God is your enemy," while Phelps-Roper stood on an American flag and carried a sign that read "God hates fag enablers." Members of the group sang "God Hates America" to the tune of "God Bless America."

     Snyder sobbed when he heard the verdict, while members of the church greeted the news with tightlipped smiles.

     It was unclear whether the plaintiffs would be able to collect the damages awarded.

Before the jury began deliberating the size of punitive damages, U.S. District Judge Richard Bennett noted that the size of the compensatory award "far exceeds the net worth of the defendants," according to financial statements filed with the court.

     Defense lawyer Jonathan Katz said the church has about 75 members and is funded by tithing. The defense attorney said that the assets of the church and the three defendants are less than a million dollars and that the compensatory award is about three times the defendants' net worth, mainly in homes, cars and retirement accounts.

     One of Snyder's attorneys, Sean Summers, said he would tirelessly seek payment of the award.

     "We will chase them forever if it takes that long," Summers said.

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Foster Update: 

Tiny when he joined us in July

   

Tiny Today

       

    Tiny has been neutered, had his teeth cleaned (the few he has left) and gets his stitches out in a week.  He is now listed for adoption, and you can see him at my Petfinder site.  My fosters are listed under Tullahoma Small Breed Rescue at

http://www.petfinder.com/shelters/TN326.html.

     The puppies keep getting bigger, and now eat and drink from bowls, so no more bottle feeding!  They are as cute as you would expect puppies to be, and now charge around the back yard, chasing each other.  They even go after the bigger dogs, and my dogs have had to teach them some manners.  This is exactly what we wanted, since they have no mother to raise them, they must learn from my dogs instead.  Puppies taken away from their mom and litter often have behavioral problems, so hopefully these will be well-adjusted.

 

I am constantly stalked by puppies

   

    If any of you might be interested in fostering dogs, contact me.  You will have a dog for anywhere from a month to six months before they are adopted, and we’ve fostered around 25 dogs over the last four years.  We ended up adopting a couple of them ourselves, but the rest all found loving homes.  The rescue groups I foster for take care of the adoption applications, home visits, vet bills, etc.  You just take care of the dog until it is adopted.  It’s lots of fun, and the dogs certainly appreciate it.  And if that special one comes along that you can’t resist, you can always adopt it yourself.

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Blog watch:

     I continue to be surprised, though certainly pleased, that other blogs are linking to mine.  Here are three more, and I’ve added them to my list of links also.

 

Brotherhood in Arms

http://www.brotherhoodinarms.org/

 

This Vet’s Life

http://thisvetslife.com/

   

alphabet city

http://alphabetcity.blogspot.com/

Our First Interpreter to Immigrate

Fall in Tennessee Can't be Beat

     The Secretary of the Air Force is coming to Arnold Air Force Base at the end of the month.  You might think this is a really big deal for us, and you’d be right.  You might also think this generates a huge amount of work for us, and you’d be right again, and I’d complement you on your perceptiveness.  I even had to work on a Saturday! Outrageous!  So I won’t be writing much today, but I will get my weekly post in. 

     I got this unexpected e-mail this week from Maj John Rogers.  Although he never wrote a post for AWAC, many of you will remember him as a contributing photographer, as well as someone I traveled around with in my early days in Afghanistan.  You may also remember his interpreter, Hate, which I mentioned a couple of times.  Well, his note has some fantastic news, and I’ll let him share it with you directly.

* * * * 

 

Greetings,
              Great news, my interpreter made it to America!  Cutting through all the bureaucracies he made it through...we, the Rogers family, are grateful to have him stay with us until he gets settled.  Life is good!  He flew in on a British Airways flight, much more plush than our ride with too many dang stops on the cattle car.  I have enclosed a photo of him in the Dulles Airport parking lot.  I believe the thumbs up and smiles speak volumes of his new found freedom.  Not much else to say but wishing all my brothers and sisters in arms a safe and enjoyable Veterans Day.  To all those still deployed you are forever in our thoughts and prayers.  God bless America!

Happy Thanksgiving too,

John

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     Here’s an interesting post with a link worth watching.  It came from a member of the Unitarian Universalist I attend.

     “Al Jazeera television. The woman is Wafa Sultan, an Arab-American psychologist from Los Angeles. I would suggest watching it ASAP because I don't know how long the link will be active. This film clip should be shown around the world repeatedly!”

http://switch3.castup.net/cunet/gm.asp?ai=214&ar=1050wmv&ak=nul

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Update on the Foster Dogs

 

     Tiny got his stitches out today from his neutering, which is his last visit to the vet.  He is completely recovered and healthy and ready for adoption.  He is losing some of his fear, and now asks me to pick him up whenever we watch TV.  This is a big step for him, as he slowly loses his fear.  If you or someone you know would like to adopt him, go to this link for more information:

http://www.petfinder.com/shelters/TN326.html.

If you look closely, you can see Dieter on his back in the leaves

 

     The pups keep growing, and love exploring the yard.  Today they got to play in the leaves.  They continue to be adorable and are well-behaved.  Now that they are eating and drinking from bowls, they are surprisingly easy to take care of.  As long as they stay small, and all five can share a pen, we might be able to pull this off.  Normally we don’t adopt dogs out until they have been neutered, and that doesn’t normally occur until they are six months old, which means we have four months to go.  Hopefully we will be able to send some of them to other foster homes within Pom Posse.

Bosley

Thanksgiving

25 November

   

Grendel, one of our many house guests over the holidays, plays with the pups

    The Thanksgiving holidays were a special time as my son Taylor and daughter Elise were both able to come home for four days.  Taylor also brought his girlfriend Monet, who some long-time AWAC readers may remember as a frequent guesser of quotes back when I did quote of the day.  Taylor also brought home his dog Grendel, a Pit Bull mix, who demonstrated that this breed can be a gentle and loving dog, when not bred to be killers.  His size intimidated my dogs, but eventually they settled into an uneasy truce.  The foster pups, on the other hand, adored him, and would chase him all over the yard.

 

The pups chase Grendel, one of their favorite games

   

     Sadly, Taylor was sick on Thanksgiving, with what we thought was the flu.  He seemed to get better, but he woke me up Sunday morning (at 3 AM) in excruciating pain and asked me to get him to the ER.  Three hours and many tests later, it looks like he had a gall bladder attack (if that is the correct term).  He’ll need to get follow-up tests to confirm it, but the symptoms fit.  Luckily Monet and Elise could drive, so he got to be a passenger as they all headed back to North Carolina.

     We also watch our Poodle, Zeus, grow old before our eyes.  We are pretty sure he is completely blind now, and though we knew it was coming, this seemed to strike pretty quickly.  He still seems in decent health otherwise, but he is disoriented and grouchy.  We’ve fostered a few blind dogs, so we know he can adapt, but it’s hard watching his health deteriorate.

     I am happy to report that Maj Steve Odum (Odie) sent in a post.  His infant son Evan died a few months ago, and Sean, Evan’s twin, had a close call, which Odie shares in his post. 

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Here’s Odie:

     While the completely sudden and shocking death of Evan was by far the biggest event of the summer for us, it was not to be the only one.  Between Evan’s death and funeral another young boy from our church, only five years old, was killed in an accident, so a few days after Evan’s funeral we found ourselves back at the same church watching the same white hearse in the same place waiting to load yet another impossibly small casket…almost more déjà vu than we were ready for but we wanted to speak to the parents personally.  Not that we had any great words of wisdom, but we had an idea of what they were experiencing.  I remembered one of the best comments I received came from a friend who had lost his first wife years ago.  At Evan’s funeral he whispered, “eat and take showers, eat and take showers” as he hugged me.  I’m not sure he has a future at Hallmark, but the fact that I knew he had come through devastating loss made the advice sage and it helped.  He knew.

     Evan was buried on a Friday.  The following Wednesday and Thursday, I worked part days and intended to work a full day on Friday.  For me this was easier than staying at home as nothing is better for at least temporary relief of grief than some hard work. It gives you a purpose and near endless distraction.  Anessa also wanted me to return because she needed to start establishing her new routine, accepting the fact that Sean would grow up as a single baby, not as a twin.  On Friday morning Sean had a small fever though it didn’t seem like much.  Anessa said she’d go to the doctor to be safe.  However, around lunch Anessa called and said the doctor was referring Sean to the Children’s Hospital in St. Louis.  My parents were still in town so they kept the older kids while I met her and Sean and we drove toward St Louis.  Sean’s breathing sounded worse and more labored even as we drove.  Our panic was rising by the time we got to the front entrance and Sean didn’t look or sound too good.  I parked while Anessa went into the ER with Sean.  I found a close spot right away, but by the time I got in they were already back in a room hooked up to monitors and running tests. 

     Little Sean was admitted and continued to get worse for a day or two until he was moved to the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit.  We spent two long days and nights in the PICU.  The sight of him red with fever, panting, wires stuck everywhere, and both arms splinted with IVs in them was almost too much.  At his worst, he was too tired to even cry.  I remember he just whimpered softly while they dug around with a needle for nearly 15 minutes (I looked at a clock) trying to draw arterial blood (much more difficult than a normal draw).  At one point we ourselves felt too tired to even cry.  I felt like a man caught in the surf who gets wiped out by a wave and is buffeted about for a while.  As it dies down he finally gets his footing and struggles up for air…just in time for the next wave to smack him back down again.  Then, when it looked like this was sure not to end well, he turned the corner.

     Upon our return to the regular unit, one young doctor (they are all young at this place, good looking too, we joked about being on the set of the latest hospital drama) expressed great relief to see us back again.  With the high heart and respiration rates Sean was experiencing they were very concerned about sudden cardiac or respiratory arrest and were uncertain if he would pull through.  Pull through he did and he has gained a ton of weight since then.

    Here are a couple of photos of Sean in the PICU after he had turned the corner and his color was back to normal.  At the time he was admitted, he didn’t look so big.  These pictures show how bloated he was from constant fluid IV’s to try to keep his temperature in the safe range.  You can see the O2 mask next to his head.  The kept it right there with the oxygen constantly flowing because they were so concerned he might go into respiratory arrest.

 

 

More to report in future posts (with significantly less drama) on our journey since then…

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Blog Watch:

     Here’s yet another new blog that has linked to AWAC: 

Chaotic Synaptic Activity

http://www.chaoticsynapticactivity.com/