The Vegetarian Vietnam Veteran Veterinarian

Bottles of cleaning supplies and solutions lined the walls. SOme barks came from other sections of the clinic.

“You’re going to want to do this in the comfort of your own home. It was just a small amount of chocolate, so you have time. Just don’t wait too long,” Dr. J. Cheever Ferriman instructed. The black labrador whined a bit and then sniffed.

“Is she going to be okay? Will this really work?” Hayman Wooster asked, concern coloring his voice.

“Of course, of course,” Dr. Ferriman reassured. “You’re going to want to do it within the hour, though.”

“Right, right.” Wooster looked about the room. Pictures of the doctor with brown hair and a mustache and a shadow box full of medals and decorations adorned the walls.

“You uh,” Wooster waved his hand like a wizard about to perform a spell.

“Yeah, I was there.”

“You must’ve gotten your GI Bill.”

“Yes. I took advantage. It covered my bachelor’s degree, at least.”

“Billie, don’t lick the man’s elbow. He’s just trying to help.”

“It’s okay. I’ve had worse. But you’re fine to go. Make sure you put enough in her system so that she gets out all of it.”

“What’d you do, were you like a medic or something?”

Ferriman winked. “No, I was a combat photographer, 1st Battalion, 1st Marines.”

“Jesus, what was that like?”

“It was mostly beautiful. Hell, too.”

“I bet you’ve seen some things. I’d put money on it that you’ve seen people put through the meat grinder.”

Ferriman sighed. “Bodies all chopped up, bullet riddled corpses ... .That's probably why I’m a vegetarian now.” He smiled. His voice remained soft and direct at the same time.

“I don’t mean to pry but did you get any action over there?” Wooster asked.

“I did.” It just came out of his mouth.

“You ever––”

“Kill anyone? No, no. I had my rifle but I used my camera the whole time.”

Wooster’s eyes wandered over the decorations. “You’ve got a CAR (combat action ribbon).”

“Yes, remember combat photographer.”

“Duh,” Wooster put a hand to his forehead. “I see you’ve got a Purple Heart.”

“It was one with all the others I kept. The rest I threw into a fire. I was young and pigheaded. I had a strong aversion to anything related to the War.”

Billie whined a bit more.

“It’s good you kept those, though.”

“Yeah, I wanted to at least have a box for them.”

“I don’t want to take up too much of your time,” Wooster promised.

“It’s okay. I’m used to it now. Everyone around here calls me Rambo.”

Wooster looked up and then down again. “I think we’ll be on our merry way, Dr. Ferriman.”

“It was a pleasure. I’m glad you came in soon enough. You make sure she’s well.”

“Yes we’re going to be okay because of you.”

“I appreciate that.”

On the car ride to the house, Billie remained great. Once they reached the walk-up in Wilmington Delaware, Wooster turned to his dog and looked at her. He shoved the bottle of hydrogen peroxide into her nostrils. She shook like an agitator. She snarled and barked. Billie showed teeth. The hydrogen peroxide fizzed and oozed around her nose and mouth. Wooster got up close to her and put his hands around her frame. He could hear the slight sizzle of the bubbles. The contents soon reached her stomach.

“That’s right, girl. Let it all out, now,” Wooster commanded with love.

The dog spun around and then issued forth soupy brownness that used to be rich chocolate. It came out in spurts, really. Wooster sopped it with an old towel.

“There you go, girl. That’s it.”

He reported back to Dr. Ferriman, again. This time, Billie seemed a bit more animated. The doctor noticed this and smiled.

“I see it must’ve done her body well,” Dr. Ferriman observed.

“Yes, Doc. Can I call you Doc?”

“If they don’t call me Rambo, it’s Doc….”

“Alright, so we don’t have to worry about the chocolate in her system. Will it come out…ya know?”

“The great majority has been expelled through her mouth. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“I appreciate it, Dr Ferriman. Let me just ask you…all the rest of your medals…did you become an anti-war dissident?”

“If you wish to call it that. I viewed myself as pro-country and anti-government. Sometimes you have to go to war. I’m anti-start-of-physical-force. Does that make sense?”

“I think so. You’d go to war only in retaliation and only if the cause is just. The medals, though?”

“Yes, of course. Again, I didn’t act rationally and I regret destroying those other ones. That box displays my time over there. The blood and bone of it all. The sinew. It all corresponds. We were just kids.” Dr. Ferriman began to open up a bit more and Billie just relaxed.

“Did you find parallels between Iraq and Afghanistan?” Wooster asked.

“A few. They weren’t exactly parallel, but the government lies and the evils they displayed certainly sent a similar whiff.”

Wooster stood stunned for a moment and then regained his bearings.

“If you had the chance to get back to the Corps, would you go?”

“Yes, I would. This wisdom I have now and the animosity I once had has all but evaporated. I would respect the uniform thoroughly and stand with my fellow combatants. I would be wary of anyone who would go against America. I would still and always question overbearing authority, however.”

“I see. Do you still have stills from over there?”

“I don’t have any of the government issued ones, but I maintain a few for my personal collection. Mainly hillsides, mountains, small villages. The faces of children playing and grabbing up candy that we tossed to them all remain with me.”

“Anyone you know die over there?”

“I won't talk about that.”

“It’s a completely legitimate question, Doc.”

“Okay, Rambo. Did you see any of your friends get popped?”

“I think it’s time for you and Bille to go.”

“Dr. Ferriman, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend at all. Honest. I’m just trying to understand you better. I think we’d be on the same page if you let me explain a little.”

“There are boundaries. You may not have known about it, but I’ve got PTSD from what I saw over there. From what I’ve done. You crossed a line. Let’s go on and get you both on your way. I have more business to attend to, now.”

“Look, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Wooster noted with sincerity. His earnest plea appeared so stirring and true that Dr. Ferriman softened.

“Okay, but that’s all the lessons from abroad you’re getting out of me for today. You and Billie have a good day,” Dr. Ferriman said with a sternness that Wooster didn’t expect. The doctor walked from the table to his computer just adjacent to sterilized utensils.

“I’m not trying to be pushy,” Wooster shot back at the veterinarian. His voice didn’t tremble and he aimed true with his own rhetoric. He wanted to come across as a man of good standing in just six words. With every ounce of decency in his frame, he wanted to convey that he tried to not peel back old wounds and expose them like one of Dr. Ferriman’s photographs. There existed in him the soul of someone who could empathize. Billie didn’t bark, she just sat there experiencing this little squabble between her owner and her doctor.

“I understand that, but you must realize that the goal is for your dog to get better, I don’t have to tell my life story to you.”

“I just don’t think you are talking to the right guy.”

“I’m not? How do you figure that?” Dr. Ferriman’s voice became icy.

“You put your medals up in your clinic. Someone’s bound to ask the uneasy questions. Someone is just going to dig a little. I appreciate the push back. And forgive me if I have seemed a bit too forward.” Then, Wooster wheeled around to Dr. Ferriman’s side. Dr. Ferriman almost jumped back but maintained his bearing. Wooster lifted his left shirtleeve and raised his pant leg.

“I still have shrapnel in my shoulder and as you can see, I lost the leg below the knee. I’m a Devil, too. I know it’s not protocol for us to ask one another…it’s like the first rule of Fight Club. I was just trying to relate to you.” The carbon fiber prosthetic glinted in the light, displaying that Wooster had just qualified for this new one.

Dr. Ferriman looked at Wooster differently now. “Now I feel foolish. I feel like I’ve spit in your face. Pardon me, brother.”

“It’s all good. Billie is my service dog. She’s been with me for a little over three years now.”

“My wife has always encouraged me to get a dog. Think of that––a vet without a pet. But it’s true. I don’t mind you asking, now. I knew six men who didn’t make it home alive. I have a picture of us on a hill.” He withdrew a photograph that had been worn but still showed in vivid detail the men he knew that were no more.

“I’ve got a video on my phone of us just hanging out in the desert near base. I knew three guys and one gal who came home, each in a box.” Wooster showed the video to Dr. Ferriman. Billie laid quietly, her stomach rising and falling like the Dow Jones Average.

“See, I’m holding the camera. They were doing a mock prom because Valentina said she had never gone to one, so we just dressed up and played a boombox. We had punch made with whiskey. Don’t worry, everybody was over twenty-one.” A sharp laugh sprung from Dr. Ferriman’s voice as he wiped a tear.

“We have a bit more in common than just caring for pets,” he admitted.

“I was like you, Doctor. I had been disillusioned and just not into anything anymore. I started drinking and smoking. Then, the VA presented me with this little fur child. I fell in love. If we’re not going on trails and circling courses, we’re just watching TV and listening to songs that get me through whatever.”

“I’m glad that she has provided you with this service. It appears as if she has created a great amount of value in your life.”

“I met my wife in the park. We also have a golden retriever. I’m sure she’s going to be in here one day, too, for check-ups.”

“I anticipate that. Same for Billie.”

“That’s right.”

“I had a hard time, too. I didn’t get into drinking or anything, but I did stop my car, got out, and just looked over the water flowing near the Twin Bridges. Someone stopped me and I got in my car and vowed I’d make something more of myself.”

“I can understand it, Doc.”

“At first, I thought that it was us. We bombed those villages. We tortured those children. Then I turned to the US government. Then, I just looked at myself. I realized that it was not my fault that we had gotten into that war and the vast majority of those who slip away on their own do so because we keep getting into stupid, immoral wars we always lose.” Dr. Ferriman wiped his brow with a towel.

“I hear, you. I know what you mean. We’re sent over there for whatever the hell and expect to come back intact and hunky dory. They expect us to be the same as when we went into the military. We’re obviously dehumanized and resort to chemical dependency in some cases. It can get better. We’re proof of that.”

“I’d say a salty Leatherneck like me can recognize what you’ve just said.” Dr. Ferriman smiled. It looked like a tinge of sadness had been enveloped in it.

“Billie and I better be up the road before the MRs. starts to wonder. Semper Fi, Dr Ferriman.”

“Do or die.”