Special Dogster Report: The Dogs of Greece, Suffering Even More than the Greek Economy

A homeless dog in Santorini. The tags on homeless Greek dogs indicate that local animal charities are aware of them and try to help them. (Photo: Maria Goodavage)

When my daughter and I visited Greece last year, we were excited to see the fingerprints of ancient civilization in all the historic sites and buildings, and to enjoy Greek food we both love so much. And we were indeed wowed by the architecture, the history, the incredible cuisine. But we toured with heavy hearts because everywhere we went, there were stray dogs.

I was surprised we did not see any dogs get hit by cars while in Athens. These two crossed a busy street near the Parthenon together, and then parted ways. (Photo: Maria Goodavage)

The dogs had incredibly appealing personalities. All the homeless dogs we encountered were friendly and gentle and had the most tender expressions. It slayed us to see their pleading eyes at every turn. These are very good dogs. They are generally medium-sized, or even large. Apparently most were once pets. But owners tired of them for whatever reason and let them out to fend on their own. This itself is not a new phenomenon, Greek animal rescuers tell me. It’s apparently part of the culture, although of course plenty of families value their pets as family members.

But with the terrible economic crisis the country is mired in, the situation is worse, and even those whose pets are beloved are often finding it impossible to keep their dogs when they themselves are uprooted. (Sound familiar? Yes, it’s happening in too many places, although perhaps not to this extent.)

These gentle dogs were likely once someone's pet (Photo: Maria Goodavage)

We arrived in Athens, and were prepared for the pollution and the pickpockets we’d heard about, but nothing prepared us for the dogs. Or the bad apartment we’d rented online. The dogs were at every turn, lying alone and tired, playing in groups in a park, or crossing extremely busy streets. Most were not too gaunt, though they were clearly hungry.

There are many struggling animal rescue groups in Greece. They try to feed the strays. If possible, they have the dogs spayed and neutered and then send them back to the streets. It’s all most groups can do, although some do have facilities for the most hard-up.

The strays who have been helped by these organizations wear collars with plastic keychains tagged with a little information. That’s how you can tell if their tummies are occasionally getting retanked. We did our best to feed them, ordering extra food in restaurants and bringing it to them. But it was futile. There were too many, and they were too hungry.

Down and out in Athens, where passersby scarcely notice the homeless dogs (Photo: Maria Goodavage)

On our last night in Athens, we made friends with a very matted, somewhat fluffy, large tawny dog, clearly old and/or hurting, lying next to a liquor store. (Not the photo above, although in a similar position.) He was curled up tight to the building. A man who worked there came out and saw us petting the dog and told us the dog was his. Oh what a relief. Finally, a dog with a home. The man proceeded to call the dog by a name and then lifted its head up abruptly. The dog put its head back down on the ground, not looking at the man. Then the man said “Come on, dog!” and lifted this poor creature’s entire body all the way up by the scruff of its neck and the base of its tail. He held him about a foot off the ground, with the dog’s head way backward. The dog did not struggle in the least. He appeared to be too weak.

I said in alarm, “Put him down, please!” The man dropped the dog hard and laughed, and the dog lay in the position in which he had been dropped. I felt a combination of fury and nausea. I realized the dog was homeless. The man was having fun with the tourists, seeing the reaction of the aghast Americans. I could barely talk, I was so horrified, and I stammered out “Why did you do that?!” but it was dark, we were on a somewhat desolate street, and my 14-year-old daughter was frightened and shaken and kept saying “Let’s just get out of here. Let’s go, please!”

I gave the dog one more pet and looked in his eyes, vowing to return to help him. We went back to our tiny, dingy apartment and tried to find information on how to call animal authorities, but it seemed to be after hours everywhere and I doubt anyone would have cared.

We took some of the food we’d saved from dinner and braved it back to the street where we’d found the dog, but he was gone. I still cannot get that scene out of my head. (I subsequently found a website with helpful information for dealing with this kind of situation, and with very useful advice for tourists who care about helping the homeless dogs.)

That's me, very relieved to be getting away from the rampant homeless dog situation in Athens and heading eight hours by ferry to the island of Santorini. But it would prove no escape from the problem. (Photo: Laura Altair Hanson)

We left Athens the next day because of our unfortunate apartment and our desire to get out of the land of sad strays and away from the nightmare of that poor dog. We boarded a ferry on the Aegean Sea and headed to the island of Santorini, eight hours away. Santorini is famous for its whitewashed houses and blue-domed churches. It’s a brilliant jewel set in the middle of the bright blue sea. And it’s popular with tourists. We figured surely there couldn’t be a problem with homeless dogs there.

Wrong. Homeless dogs were part of the island’s tapestry. They were just as friendly and sweet, and it was still heartbreaking to see them lying everywhere with asphalt and concrete as their beds. But they seemed a little healthier than the dogs of Athens, perhaps even a little happier. Maybe it was the fresh air, or the killer views, or the tourists offering their leftovers.

Friendly, friendly, and more friendly is the best way to describe all the homeless dogs we met in Santorini (Photo: Maria Goodavage)

Homeless dogs on Santorini have great views. Here my daughter befriends a dog who seems to have an eye for scenery. (It's not as precarious as it looks.) (Photo: Maria Goodavage)

Hungry, homeless dogs in the breathtakingly beautiful town of Oia (pronounced EE-ah) (Photo: Maria Goodavage)

Ever the dog magnet, on Santorini I was a virtual Pied Piper for dogs. (That handsome fellow closest to me completely stole my heart.) We went to stores and bought whatever we could to help nourish them and make them less hungry. (Photo: Laura Altair Hanson)

Or maybe it was the woman in the photo below. Meet Christina Kaloudi, the smart, determined, super-hardworking woman who heads the island’s animal rescue organization, the Santorini Animal Welfare Association (SAWA). Kaloudi devotes her life to helping the dogs, cats, and donkeys of Santorini. She heads a group of volunteers — many visiting from other countries as tourists who want to do good while on vacation — who keep these animals alive and in as good condition as possible. Every day these volunteers go to places on the island where the strays are and pour out dog food and cat food en masse. It gets devoured eagerly, gratefully, quickly.

SAWA has arrangements with some locals to let the dogs sleep in their courtyards, but generally the dogs live on the streets and sidewalks. When Kaloudi or volunteers first encounter a stray, they take the dog to the vet to be neutered or spayed, and release it back to the streets as soon as the dog has healed — far too soon, as far as Kaloudi is concerned, but the veterinarian they work with in the city of Thira cannot keep them for long and there is nowhere else.

Kaloudi is one of the Earth angels walking among us.. She helped create a refuge on fenced acreage where dogs can run free among trees, and where they have shelter — however rudimentary — at night. The previous winter, too many of their dogs had died because there was no place for them to be inside. But dedicated volunteers — generally from other countries — erected a building and some boxy kennels outside, so the dogs could come and go as they please. There was no heat, but it was better than nothing. (Donkeys who were overworked in tourist operations going up and down hundreds of stairs on a steep mountainside also call this place home. The animals are often abandoned when they can no longer work.)

The dogs at the refuge are the ones who did not do well with street life: the ill, the scared, the pups, the seniors. Sometimes dogs end up there because they have been selected for adoption off the streets by a tourist, so Kaloudi gets the dogs ready for their trip. It is not uncommon for visitors to fall in love with a stray and want to take him home.

Christina Kaloudi, who runs the Santorini Animal Welfare Association, with some of her friends at the refuge (Photo: Maria Goodavage)

Kaloudi is very upset about what she calls “the typical Greek attitude” about dogs. “Dogs are disposable. For instance, they buy them for hunting, and they don’t train them, and then they say the dog is a bad hunter, and they abandon him.” Again, this is not to slur all Greeks, because many don’t have this attitude. But Kaloudi has seen far too much pain and suffering and death, and she is sick of it.

The dogs at the SAWA refuge crave human interaction. Kaloudi welcomes visiting volunteers. Some of her best volunteers are tourists. (Photo: Maria Goodavage)

Here is what Kaloudi recently wrote about what life is like for homeless Greek dogs — even on this most beautiful island:

A Greek stray dog’s life in the streets is nothing more than a slow and agonizing sentence to suffering. With the 2004 Athens Olympic Games, my country realized that it is facing an uncontrollable stray population problem that had to be “swept clean” in order not to disgrace its image. A population control program commenced and as the law states “stray dogs will be sterilized and then released back to their natural environment.” In which civilized part of the world are the streets considered as the natural environment of a dog????

A Greek stray dog’s average lifespan is two years. Two years of survival, not living. Conventional shelters exist, they all suffer from great lack of funds and volunteers, and are all outnumbered from the dogs in need. The few left with the will to sustain such shelters are acting way beyond their limits in order to make ends meet. Enthusiastic volunteers come but mostly leave as this psychological trip is overwhelming. A dog’s place is in a home, not in the streets nor in a shelter. The shelter is just a “click” better than the streets; it offers the dogs a safe haven.

I see this every day in the eyes of the dogs I leave behind me when I close the shelter doors. They are all longing to follow me, and they are devastated that the few humans they interact with have to go.  Next time you see a dog lying by the street don’t just walk away. Remind yourself that you can make the difference, DON’T BUY a dog, ADOPT a shelter dog, SUPPORT an animal welfare association, SPREAD the word, they will be waiting patiently. There is no wonder that they are considered the most loyal and unconditional loving creatures of all.

A SAWA resident strikes a pose in the window of the small new building on the property. (The white smudge is slobber from the dogs who rushed to greet me and competed desperately for my attention.) (Photo: Maria Goodavage)

Check out some of the dogs available for adoption at SAWA right now by clicking here.  (They are the most beautiful creatures!) Of course, you likely have a shelter in your town that’s overburdened with dogs, so that’s the place to adopt. But if you ever find yourself on vacation in Santorini, I’m just sayin’ —  it’s doable, although harder to get dogs back to the U.S. than it is to get them to other European countries.

The SAWA website also has information about how to donate. It’s very worthwhile, believe me. The number of animals they take care of on a shoestring budget is nothing short of a miracle. (The donations link is currently a little funky. I waited to write this post until it was fixed, and it was for a while, but it seems to be problematic again. You might be better off e-mailing Kaloudi directly to find out the best way to donate. You can contact her at christina@sawasantorini.org.)

Kaloudi puts two new arrivals in a travel crate to take them to the veterinarian in town to be neutered. (Photo: Maria Goodavage)

I plan to return to Santorini in the not-too-distant future, and when I do, I will spend a few days helping SAWA. The group welcomes visiting volunteers. There are many other Greek animal rescue organizations with the same mission, so if you visit elsewhere in Greece your help will most likely be appreciated at those places, too.

I like the idea of combining a vacation and volunteering. Greece is not the only country that can use help with its terrible homeless dog situation. If you’re so inclined, you might want to plan ahead and build a little volunteer time into your next vacation. It may take a little research, and you may end up with fur all over your luggage, but I can pretty much guarantee that you will return home feeling even better than if you’d kicked up your feet and stayed poolside the whole time.

When in town, Kaloudi does not hesitate to promote adoption of these dogs wherever she goes. Here, the dogs on their way for their sterilization appointment make passersby aware that they are homeless and could use some forever digs. (Photo: Maria Goodavage)

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Veterans Day Special: Assistance Dog Gives Vet Back His Life

Navy Master at Arms 1st Class Orlando Rivera and Sweet Pea, who has helped him regain his life

Navy Master at Arms 1st Class Orlando Rivera came back from his second deployment in Iraq in 2009, and thought he was okay. But he had seen too much and experienced terrible losses. There were the deaths of military friends with whom he shared a deep bond. And then the IED that exploded on his convoy of Humvees, killing several more comrades and resulting in his own traumatic brain injury (TBI), hearing loss, and blown-out left leg.

In the months after his deployment, Rivera started experiencing nightmares in the rare times he was able to sleep. He was unable to function as he used to, and had uncharacteristic mood swings. Others described him as a zombie. He was sent for evaluations and diagnosed with chronic PTSD.

But even with helpful treatments, life was getting away from Rivera. His PTSD was getting worse. It got to the point where he couldn’t bear to be in crowds or even large stores. “I couldn’t even go out with my kids and wife,” he recalls. “We’d go to Wal-Mart and in five minutes I’d be in a cold sweat and teary and panicky. I’d have to go back to the car and sit with my 7-year-old son and listen to music.”

During intensive treatment with other veterans at Walter Reed National Military Medical Center in Bethesda, MD, a woman came by every day with a Golden Retriever therapy dog. Rivera loves dogs, and had even been a military working dog handler for a while. He gravitated toward the animal. He and others noticed that his best days were the ones where he got to interact with the dog. He realized that an assistance dog could be the answer to his problems, so he set out to find one.

Shawn Mello and his dog, Harpo, were also brought together by Paws for Patriots

It was a long road, but when he learned of Southeastern Guide Dogs’ Paws for Patriots™ program, he knew he’d struck gold. “They just reached out and wanted to work with me to do whatever they could to help me,” says Rivera, who will retire in March after 20 years in the Navy.

Last month, Rivera traveled from Bethesda to Florida to get matched with a Paws for Patriots dog. As soon as he met Sweet Pea, a butterscotch-colored Golden Retriever/Lab mix (a “Goldador”), he knew they’d found the perfect dog for him. “It was like we’d been friends for years,” he says. “We bonded immediately.”

Sweet Pea is tuned in to Rivera. When he’s having a nightmare or thrashing around during a night terror, she nudges and paws at him to wake him up. And she is a tremendous help during what he calls “daydreams,” when he disappears from this world and is back in Iraq:

“She jumps up from sleeping and hits my hand with her nose for me to pet her and she will keep going until I pet her,” Rivera says. “Or if I’m sitting in a position that I can’t pet her she will jump up and hug me and lick my face. There have been times where she has done this and rested her head on my shoulder and gives a hug.

“It’s a wonderful feeling when she does this because it diverts my focus to her, and you can’t help but smile at her Golden Retriever sad face. I can’t help but smile every time I look at Sweet Pea, whether she’s awake or asleep. I’m just so thankful that she has come into my life and is helping not just myself but my family as well.”

Because of Sweet Pea, Rivera is able to face the world again and be at his family’s side for outings. Now, when he goes to Wal-Mart, “I have to be dragged out,” he says. Crowds and stores are not a problem with Sweet Pea around. Instead of worrying someone might ambush him or startle him, he just looks to Sweet Pea. If she is calm, he knows he can be at ease. If someone is walking toward him and he feels uncomfortable, he tells Sweet Pea “block” and she’ll go between him and the person. He can tell her “watch” and she’ll look in the direction of any nearby activity. He can read her face about what’s going on, even if the activity is around the a corner or an aisle and he can’t see it.

A Paws for Patriots dog helping out at a military hospital

And yes, Sweet Pea is a champion hugger. Sometimes Rivera needs a hug and asks for one, but Sweet Pea can usually tell first, and offers a hug on her own, standing on her hind legs and reaching out and snuggling into him. Or if he’s sitting down and a little anxious, she’ll try to climb on his lap. “A 74-pound lap dog is a lot of dog,” he laughs.

Rivera spoke openly with me because he wants to get the word out about Paws for Patriots so other veterans can find out about the program. “I’m just paying it forward,” he says. “It has been a life-changing experience for me, and I want to do my part to help other vets.”

Southeastern Guide Dogs is a national organization established in 1982. Its main program, Paws for Independence, partners professionally trained guide dogs with people with visual impairments. Paws for Patriots has three missions: It provides guide dogs to veterans with visual impairments; Veteran Assistance Dogs (VAD) to veterans with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (dogs receive specialized training along with training with their new handler when matched and lifetime follow-up care); and facility therapy dogs to military hospitals.

About a dozen Veteran Assistance Dogs have been placed since the program began in late 2010. The dogs for VAD and other non-guide-dog programs run by Southeastern Guide Dog were ones who didn’t pass guide dog school. “They’re working dogs and want to have a job,” explains spokeswoman Jennifer Bement. ”Just because these dogs weren’t cut out to be guide dogs doesn’t mean they can’t make a meaningful difference in someone’s life. We just have to find the right job for them to succeed.”

It’s a win-win. And there’s nothing like that on Veterans Day.

Looking for something dog-related to do to commemorate Veterans Day? Here are a few ideas:

• Find an organization that helps military working dogs and their handlers on deployment, and see how you can help. One of my favorites is the United States War Dog Association. (Turn down your speakers before clicking the link if you don’t want to be startled by the music.) Among its many activities, the group sends really good care packages to deployed dogs and handlers via its Operation Military Care (K9) program.

• Like the Facebook page of Dog Bless You, explore.org’s philanthropic dog-loving community. Starting today, and for the next 11 days, the organization will donate one service dog per day to a war veteran suffering from PTSD.

• Check out Jane Miller’s book, Healing Companions: Ordinary Dogs and Their Extraordinary Power to Transform Lives. The book focuses on several amazing dogs who have helped people profoundly improve their lives. Miller is a tremendous advocate for veterans, and volunteers her time training psychiatric service dogs for them. She suggests the following activity for Veterans Day:

• Write to your senators and ask them to pass the Veterans Dog Training Therapy Act (VDTTA), but in a form that provides equal resources for those with PTSD and other invisible disabilities, and not just for those with physical limitations. “We still live in a culture that stigmatizes mental illness. Adequate financial support must be provided to all wounded warriors, whether physical or mental,” Miller says.

(Some background: The House of Representatives unanimously passed legislation last month that included the VDTTA. The Senate is next. The bill establishes a program that allows veterans with PTSD to train dogs for veterans with physical disabilities. These dogs could be shelter rescues, which would be pretty amazing. The trained dogs are then given to physically disabled veterans to help them with their daily activities. There are no provisions for the veterans with PTSD or TBI to have these dogs themselves.)

• Read Daniela Caride’s excellent post on assistance dogs from a couple of days ago at her blog, the Daily Tail.

• Watch the Hero Dog Awards on the Hallmark Channel tonight at 8 p.m. (7 Central). It’s the first major awards ceremony for hero dogs from every walk of life. The finalists in several categories, including military working dogs, gathered at a gala red-carpet event in Los Angeles last month for a very magical evening. I was there, and am looking forward to watching again from the comfort of my living room. Here’s the short video about a retired military working dog named Bino, and the work he’s still doing to save lives.

• Add to this list! If you have organizations you’d like to suggest or activities not included above, include them in the comments below.

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Special Needs Pet of the Week: Chickie

Hi all! We recently discovered the Joyful Paws blog run by Barbara Techel, author of the Frankie the Walk 'N Roll Dog book series. Barbara has a soft spot for wheelchair-bound pups and dogs with disabilities in general and often runs interviews featuring special needs pets and their owners. She has graciously allowed us to re-post these wonderfully sweet Q and As here on our For the Love of Dog Blog, so you'll be seeing them here now and again. --Janine Kahn, Managing Editor of Dogster

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What is your pet's name?

Chickie

How old is your pet?

Approximately 13 years old.

Where did you get your pet?

We took her out of a bad situation after a friend called us about her needing rescue.

What is your pet's physical challenge?

IVDD (Inter-Vertebral Disc Disease). Her back legs are paralyzed and she requires a cart to be mobile. Chickie does have bowel control but requires her bladder to be expressed several times a day and is diagnosed with chronic UTI, which we monitor daily. Chickie did not always have IVDD, it came one day and even though she has had surgery, she never got the use of her hind legs again.

What is your pet's favorite thing to do?

She loves to "boogie," which is the code word we ask her if she wants to get in her cart and join the others.

What is your pet's favorite thing to eat?

Anything and everything! We are talking about a Dachshund here!

What do you love most about your pet?

I can get her all set up in the chair with me and she starts to look around the room for one of her toys and I have to get them all one at a time until she decides which one she wants. It’s usually one of the last ones I bring. I often tell her she is "a ghra mo chroi," which is Irish for "love of my heart."

What has your pet most taught you?

Commitment. We knew we were going to do whatever we had to do to give Chickie a decent quality of life. We have also learned how intelligent they can be when worked with. Oh, also how to clean up poop.

Anything else you’d like to share?

Chickie actually named herself. When we first got her she would follow my wife around always wanting to be picked up and held. So one day BJ picked up Pepper and asked her if she was ‘my little chick-a-dee’? Well, she got all excited so BJ asked her again and the same reaction! So that name stuck and she has been Chickie ever since that day. Chickie is also one of many little ambassadors for Dodgerslist, a website and support group for people with pets that suffer from IVDD. We incorporate her cart into her costumes to bring attention to her disability and show that many handicapped pets can have a decent quality of life. Many people remember her and tell us they look forward to what costume she will be wearing each Halloween.

Keep on rollin', Chickie!

P.S. If you care for a special needs pet and would like your pet featured, please email Barbara through her website. Send a photo and she will forward the questionnaire for your pet to be featured in an upcoming post.

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What makes a veterinary specialist so ‘special’?

Veterinary specialists may not be as “special” as we sometimes think we are, but there’s a lot that goes into the making of one.

When you see your family veterinarian for most of your small animal (meaning dog or cat) routine veterinary visits, you are probably seeing a general practitioner, or GP.

Most GPs have gone through four years of undergraduate college (usually resulting in a bachelor’s degree, which I always thought was odd for the married ones), followed by four years of veterinary school, after which most are granted the degree of Doctor of Veterinary Medicine, or DVM.

One school, just to be difficult, doles out their degree in the vibrant, living language of Latin and uses Veterhinoninarius Medium-rare-iciniuius Doctorfeelgoodius (I am pretty sure I got that right) or VMD. So, if you look on your veterinarian’s business card, you can tell right away if they went to one of the normal 27 schools that are not in Pennsylvania (DVM) or to the one school that has gone all batty and needs to be different, and also has piercings, tattoos and keeps its snake at the dojo just to show how unique it is (VMD).  Note: I have many, many special Penn Friends, and my gentle and loving ribbing about their weirdness, degeneracy and insanity should not be misconstrued as evidence that I think they are weird, degenerate, or insane.

So, your average vet goes through eight years of training to be where they are. Some schools allow the four year undergrad to be fast-tracked, but for most US veterinarians, eight years is the norm.

However, if you elect to specialize, after your internship you apply for and hopefully obtain a residency (so called because the doctors frickin’ live in the hospital, the duty hours are so long) in the area you want to specialize in. It could be surgery, oncology, cardiology or, as in my case, emergency medicine and critical care. Some people, insane people, elect to specialize in more than one area at a time and are known as “double-boarded,” which means that someone should have taken two very large boards and beat some sense into them.

The 2- or 3-year residency program immerses you in the discipline at hand and gives you the skills you need to, a) become a specialist and, b) pass a big-ass test known as a board exam. Most board exams are 2-3 day sadism sessions that leave the test-takers with little self-respect, stomach lining or bladder control.  Most folks take 2-3 months off from work to study for the board exam, usually living in a cave, not bathing and gnawing on a haunch of deer while surrounded by textbooks. (Vegetarians gnaw on a haunch of cauliflower).

During my board exam, among other things, I had to do a pretend surgery on a balloon. If the balloon popped, I failed. I was sorta hoping I would get extra credit for twisting the balloon into the shape of a kitten afterward, but no go.

Once you pass the test, as if by magic you are certified in your specialty and given magical powers, a cape, a tie pin and a swift kick in the ass.

As an example of what a specialist does, let’s look a little closer at surgeons. They are very special people.

Any veterinarian can do any surgery. Your family veterinarian, for example, could elect to do a kidney transplant if they felt competent and you agreed to the procedure (please sign here and write me a check for $15,000. Thank you for your patronage). But many surgeries (beyond spays and neuters and some abdominal procedures like foreign body removals) are done by specialized veterinarians who are board-certified in surgery.

There are lots of talented GP surgeons out there (and some GPs who are better than some boarded folks I have met), but, as a general guideline, the more complex and risky procedures are referred to boarded surgeons if the GP and pet owners think it best. Surgeons are amazing at what they do, and I have the deepest respect for them. I have seen a good surgeon put a busted and well-nigh unrecognizable pet back together, looking for all the world as if almost nothing ever happened.  They can be as close to an artist as a veterinarian is ever likely to get (except, of course, for my balloon animal art).

Just like any of us bipedal hominids shuffling about this rock, though, surgeons are mostly just normal people who have the world go in and out of their bodies through the same holes the rest of us do. Some of them tend to be a little on the vain side, though; I worked with a guy once who wore pointy orange shoes to work every damn day, convinced they were the apex of fashion.  Little elfy numbers they were, curled up at the tip in a let’s-see-what-Santa-is-making-in-his-shop-today way.

Some surgeons, though, run the risk of over-stating either their skillset or the benefits of surgery in general; not every condition known to man or beast can be fixed with a swipe of the scalpel in their well-manicured and bronzed hands.

The same principle also applies to internal medicine. This is the branch of medicine that deals with giblets; kidney, intestine, pancreas, liver – all of the variety meats. Internists are detail-oriented specialists who will gleefully listen to pet owners describe their pet’s bowel movements in excruciating detail. Repeatedly.

They have cases that play out over months or years, and are adept at long-term, complex case management. I could never be an internist, as my memory span is about the size of a baby newt (called an ‘eft’) – this is why I chose emergency medicine; hit by car – fixed up in 2 days – off to home, Bob’s your uncle. Emergency medicine doctors have flings with their patients, internists have marriages.

This is just a wee overview of what goes into making a specialist. So, the next time you see your veterinarian, or your veterinarian refers you to a specialist, tell them ‘thank you’ for all the schoolin’ and maybe ask for a balloon kitten.

Image credits: Both images from flickr creative commons. Top: cpeachok. Bottom: sean94110.

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Special Photo Essay: Dogs of War

Credit: U.S. Air Force photo/Senior Airman Elizabeth Rissmiller, via Foreign Policy

People have always had a soft spot for military dogs. They’re incomparable troops — brave, loyal, and superbly well suited for their tasks. But there’s something else that draws us: These dogs have the ability to humanize war. We identify with them. They’re not simply heroes overseas, they’re our pals. We share our homes and lives with their distant cousins, whose fierce loyalty and unconditional love defines them, and sometimes helps define us.

When we hear about a four-legged warrior, we want to know more, to disappear into a world that may not have seemed so accessible to us without the dog in it. The takedown of Osama bin Laden earlier this month was and is a huge story. But when we learned that the elite team of Navy Seals that put an end to the most hunted man in the world was made up of 79 commandos and one very special dog, we wanted to find out everything: Who was this heroic dog, what did he do, and while we’re at it, what kind of tactics did the Seals use, who are the Seals anyway, how did this all unfold, and just where is Abbottabad, or at least Pakistan?

The dog, now reported to be a Belgian Malinois named Cairo, effectively broke down barriers between “them” and “us.” We still hunger to learn more. Because of him, military dogs are the subject of stories all over the globe. You’d be hard-pressed to find a news entity that hasn’t embarked on a story about dogs in the military in the last couple of weeks. Among the most riveting were a couple of slide shows that appeared on ForeignPolicy.com. We bring you a few of the photos here. Be sure to visit the site to see more and learn the stories behind them.

In the photo above, military dog Rico wears special “doggles” as he trains with Staff Sgt. Philip Mendoza aboard a helicopter at Joint Base Balad, Iraq.

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Credit: Tech. Sgt. Manuel J. Martinez, U.S. Air Force/DoD, via Foreign Policy

A dog and his soldier leap off the ramp of a CH-47 Chinook helicopter during water training over the Gulf of Mexico on March 1.

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Credit: Courtesy K9 Storm Inc., via Foreign Policy

We ran this photo earlier this month when word broke that a Navy Seal dog was involved with the Bin Laden operation. Now we know a little more about it. The photo shows U.S. Navy Seal Mike Forsythe, and his dog, Cara, as they recently broke the world record for “highest man/dog parachute deployment.” They jumped from 30,100 feet. The equipment used for military dogs in these operations is very sophisticated. A Canadian company called K9 Storm supplies military and police dogs with an impressive array of high-tech gear.

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(Photo: Courtesy K9 Storm, via Foreign Policy)

When these athletic, super-focused dogs wear full gear, they’re even more formidable. The dog in the photo above appears to be wearing the K9 Storm Intruder, a lightweight, waterproof integrated camera vest. The camera has built-in night vision, and besides being ideal for amphibious operations, is also designed for tunnel, cave, and SWAT operations.

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Credit: Coast Guard photo/PA3 Henry G. Dunphy, via Foreign Policy

Not every military dog is a Malinois or German shepherd. Canine troops include many different breeds. Labrador retrievers are favorites at home and on the field (and in the air, and on the sea…).

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Credit: U.S. Air Force photo/Airman 1st Class Allen Stokes, via Foreign Policy

At the end of the day, it’s all about bonding and trust. Military dogs and their handlers develop deep bonds that sometimes even transcend death. Earlier this year we wrote about British Lance Corporal Liam Tasker, who died in a firefight with the Taliban in Afghanistan. Shortly after, his devoted 22-month-old bomb-sniffing dog, Theo, who was with him when he died, suffered a seizure and also died. The two had formed an incredibly strong bond during their time together, starting during their 15 weeks of training, and continuing in Afghanistan, where in five months, they recovered 14 home-made bombs and huge numbers of other weapons — possibly a record for a dog and his handler in the conflict. Many speculate that when Tasker died, his dog died of a broken heart.

In the photo above, Staff Sgt. Erick Martinez holds his dog, Argo II, in an over-the-shoulder carry at Hill Air Force Base, Utah, in early March. The exercise helps build loyalty and trust — something dogs of every stripe and spot, military or not, have at their very core.

Dogster readers, what would you want to know about military dogs if you had a chance to ask a trainer, a soldier, a breeder, or anyone whose lives have intersected with these very special dogs?

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Winner of Soggy Doggy Doormat — and Special Offer!

At long last we have a winner for the Soggy Doggy doormat giveaway! (Sorry for the delay. Internet overseas was not happening in the days before coming home.) The winner, chosen via Random.org from a whopping 245 entries, is Deb Searles. Here’s what she wrote in the comment we randomly selected as the winner:

I have an akita/wolf mix -Keira- and she loves to lay on her mountains of snow and mud..we live in the woods of maine and altho it does somewhat dry “possibly” in july..most of the time we are in a clay heaven of mud when the snow melts…she has her own towel by the door to scrub her off with when she comes in after the snow or rain but the paws are definitely a challenge….would love to have a soggy door mat to help a lil bit with the paw problem..

Congratulations, Deb! I spent part of my childhood in Maine and know what it’s like this time of year! You will love your new mat.

Now for the special offer: The folks at Soggy Doggy are giving Dogsters who really want a Soggy Doggy doormat a nice deal: If you order a Soggy Doggy doormat between now and Friday evening, you’ll get free shipping (as long as you live in the continental US). Just place your order on the Soggy Doggy site, and you’ll be spared shipping charges during this period!

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Rocco’s special, and that’s a good thing

We have two dogs in our household — Rocco and Nyse.  Nyse is a 13 year-old pit bull, and not the main subject of this entry. She was somehow named after the New York Stock Exchange in the cloudy and long-forgotten past. She was my wife’s dog long before we were together and every time I ask my wife about the origin of her name, I just hear a series of low bleeps and bloops with the words ‘brother’, ‘hoodlum’ and ‘New York Stock Exchange’ mixed in, sort of like how the adults used to talk in the Peanuts holiday TV specials.

This regularly made my heart rate double. Oh, old TV, how do I love thee!

She is the smart one of the pair and makes sure that the household is in order and the trains run on time.  Her dreams consist of tax forms, stopwatches and orderly rows of alphabetized files.

Rocco is a 5-year-old Lab/Rott mix with the intellectual capabilities of a brick of Velveeta and a heart of purest gold. He is minus a leg from a disagreement with a Buick, but gets around well enough to knock every thing in the house over at least once daily.

The flowers may have a slight edge, intellectually.

When he dreams, I am sure it is of lame and slow rabbits happily cavorting about in an Alpo landscape as unicorns frolic in avalanches of marshmallow fluff and bacon clouds drift slowly by.

We are very similar in that respect.

He recently completed the certification process for Therapy Dogs International, and is now a card-carrying and tag-wearing certified therapy dog. He can now go spread his particular brand of sloppy, dumb-happy love to sick and infirm two- (or less) legged people.  One of the first things we plan on having him do is have kids read to him.

He thought it might be edible at first.

There are lots of kids who freeze up when they have to read something to their peers or an adult – seems they have an episode of the panics, and are afraid of being judged. A dog, particularly one who is as agreeable as Rocco, presents less of a threat, so their nascent reading skills can blossom like a Bloomin’ Onion (only slightly less delicious).

Hospitals and retirement homes will probably round out the itinerary after he masters the art of listening to kids read. We are really looking forward to spreading his gift of (slightly dimwitted) love with those in need.

Who knows — maybe he will learn to read.

If any of you have experiences with therapy dogs, either on the giving end or the receiving end, please feel free to share them here.

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