As I am at my laptop, typing this column, I can hear Valor on her “living room bed,” deep in sleep, about five feet away from my desk. I can hear her deep breathing, almost snoring. It gives me great comfort knowing she is in an environment where she can feel that relaxed, that content, that safe. I am smiling.
My dear Spousal Unit, Female, Organic Personnel, One each found Valor on a dog rescue website. Her name was Snowflake at the time. She was about 6½ years old and a white/cream color. She was a “puppy mill” dog that cranked out puppies for the cute puppy market. We live in Lawton, Snowflake was in Miami, Okla. Well, she needed to be rescued from THAT life, so we decided we were the ones to rescue her. Road trip! She is the latest in a lengthy line of rescue dogs we have enjoyed over the past 20 years.
My dogs have been an important, non-traditional part of my treatment for PTSD. When I returned from Operation Iraqi Freedom-Year One, there were Bonnie, Billie, Nadene and Izzy to comfort me. Later, Tank and Sandy looked after me. Besides a certain other human in the home, I am convinced these dogs allowed me to function, day-to-day, on an almost normal level. Feeding a dog, letting them out to do their business, playing with them, disciplining them, and brushing them out. These normal, everyday habits were important to me — therapeutic to me. Oh, and let us not forget about the tummy rubs (for them) or the behind the ear rubs, or any petting of the head. These actions of affection were instantly returned to me by my dogs just enjoying their lives.
Dogs do not live forever, nor do they have the lifespan we humans enjoy. Growing up, my family had a German Shepard ever since I was 6 years old (always black and tan, always named Rex.) I have had the honor of hosting my fair share of Shepards as an adult. As with many breeds of large dogs, their later years can manifest several different ailments. Hip dysplasia, allergies, even cancer have reared their ugly head with my dogs. About 10-12 years will elapse before these medical conditions start to affect their quality of life. I challenge you to be a responsible pet owner and do the right thing, open your wallet, and make sure they receive the care they need, the care they deserve.
On that note, I must segue to a great big shoutout to my veterinarian for the last 115 years, Dr. John Hergenrether, DVM! “Dr. John” has been my go-to guy for all my dogs. He, his protégé, Dr. Charles Underwood, DVM, Devon, and the rest of the staff at Hergenrether Animal Hospital have been a tremendous source of comfort over the years. Their caring attitudes, professional attention-to-detail, and expertise allowed Kim and I to trust these folks with our beloved pets.
Yes, pets. I am not one to use the embarrassing terms of “four-footed family member” or “fur baby.” They are pets, plain and simple. If you have a pet, you better take care of it…him…her, you get the idea.
George Keck is an Army retiree, a drummer, and Lawton resident, off and on, since 1964.
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