Homecoming

Sergeant Roger, a German Shepherd, stared at the starless sky and finished his rawhide strip. He tossed the butt into the grass. The war veteran willed his shaking paw to stop quivering and lifted his leg for one last squirt on the bush before he entered the Veteran of Foreign Wars building. Talking about his service with the K-9 Corps and the war was a catch twenty-two. It helped, but it also hurt. Shepherds tended to withhold how they felt. In the ordinary world, this was a positive, but postwar, the buried trauma had led to a spike in the early deaths of many of his friends and fellow canine soldiers.

"Gather around the floor everyone, we are about to start the session," said Captain Purvis, a Belgian Malinois, "You will find the kibble and fresh water in the corner donated by Chawy, the online pet supply store. Remember, this building is non-chewing so please go outside if you need a hit from your rawhide."

The support group had shrunk from eight to five in the past few months. Sylvester, the half Maltese, half shepherd, had moved home with his daughter. Rocky the Boxer was in the psych hospital after intentionally eating a bottle of his care giver’s pain meds. He claimed it was mistaken for candy, but everyone in the room knew differently.

"The memorial service for Sgt. Brutus, the German Shepherd, will take place tomorrow morning. As you know the scar tissue in his lungs from the bomb blast he inhaled led to pneumonia last week. If you plan to attend, I'm sure his human partner will appreciate the support," said Purvis.

"How is Corporal Rocky doing?" said Roger.

"The latest report is he may be released tomorrow. On the bulletin board, there is a sign-up sheet for the dog watch. He's going to need us. You know Boxers are stubborn as hell and we need volunteers to spar with him to wear him out every day," said Purvis, "You know he's still looking for his lost partner who's never coming home."

"He needs to buck up and be the dog we know him to be," said Lieutenant Bongo the Cane Corso. "We've all lost someone to these damned wars. He knew what he was signing up for, took the kibble, and now wants to whine about it?"

Roger stood and growled. "You officers are all the same. You claim pedigree and attend the finest training schools. You only received a commission because of your family lineage and ordered lower pups like us into the path of death and danger."

"Lay down Roger," said Purvis.

"Why do you even come to our sessions Bongo? Did you ever sniff out a bomb or were you the first into a house to flush out the enemy?"

Drool slowly dripped onto the floor from the panting canines as they waited for Bongo's response.

"A sniper took out my partner one night in Baghdad when I had to pee. My best buddy took really good care of me when I became shell shocked by the perpetual explosions every night. It was my fault and I should have died with him. Instead, here I am living at the dog shelter, a failed security dog, and considered a danger to society."

The panting stopped, and silence pervaded the VFW hut.

"I'm sorry Lieutenant. I was out of line," said Roger.

"Thank you for sharing that Bongo. That's why we are here, to hear each other. Every dog here has a story to share without judgement. We are a band of dogs, and we will help carry each other's burdens. Everyone, bring your paws into the circle for our pledge."

The dogs slid forward, overlayed their paws, and mumbled the pledge.

I pledge to the dogs of this brotherhood to live in a way that honors the sacrifices that they have made. I will surround myself with strong dogs, including veterans, to stand together as brothers and sisters to ward off the demons of war that plague us. I will carry the memories of all the dogs who have served and touched my life.

"Refreshments are ready boys," said Dusty, a female German Shepherd, behind them.

"Who's the fine new pup?" said Private Homer, another Cane Corso.

"That's my adopted daughter. I would threaten you but instead, I will warn you. She just graduated from the Academy with top honors. Word is she took down the senior instructor in her final test. If your feeling brave, go for it," said Purvis.

The small group moved to the chicken snacks and began horsing around as old soldiers do. Roger stepped outside and away from the boisterous dog play. He pulled out a strip of rawhide and took a hit. Another day had passed, another night survived since coming home, and for just a moment, he remembered the peace of his pup hood.

"Do you have an extra raw hide Sergeant?" said Dusty as she slipped up beside him quietly.

Dark clouds parted, and a canopy of stars twinkled their calming beams from light years away. The full moon radiated its reflection of the sun and the primal urge to howl unincumbered sped through his veins.

Roger smiled, his paw stopped quivering, and he thought, Things are looking up.