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Warrior Stories

About 2,000 working dogs face danger with American soldiers, largely in
the Middle East. Click HERE to see more about them.

This poem written by SSgt Robert Black is heartfelt and honest. It defines the bond the unique relationships – between soldiers and their dogs.

THANK YOU PARTNERS

Thank you Neil for showing me the basics, for keeping me on track,

For proving to me, that I am worthy of these tasks.

Thank you Peter, "Pete",

For trying my patience and keeping me on my toes,

It only took you three years to teach me most of what you know.

Thank you Alan for showing me that there is so much more to learn,

Keeping me forever focused at each and every turn.

And Marco,

How could I forget you, my ol' faithful friend.

When I thought I was alone, you were there ready to defend.

For maintaining my proficiency and teaching me a trick or two,

For showing me that there is much more than just work for us to do.

My partner Mike,

You placed my feet firmly on the ground,

Taught me that hard work pays off, sometimes without a sound.

You humbled me and showed me the value of simple rewards,

It's not the glory, but satisfaction of a task we've worked towards.

Ron, what can I say? You're one shep I favored,

Your drive, loyalty and tenacity never ever wavered.

Thank you Zorro,

For welcoming to my new base,

Our short time together was never a race,

You preferred the shade over the work,

I’ll miss your compassion and little quirks.

And Aron my partner in Iraq,

You didn’t seem to have a care, you'd play fetch anywhere

I'm just glad we made it back...

Laugh a lot and play often and work a little in-between,

For the dogs that I have handled, knows exactly what this means.

I thank you, my partners, my teachers, my friends,

For everything you have shown me and a bond that'll never end.

I wanted to tell you, thank you, before I have to leave,

And may my next partner, teacher and friend,

Have a new trick up his sleeve.

Black, Robert J., SSgt, USAF

377SFS/S3K - Military Working Dog Section

THE MARINE

He was young. He was brave, and he had been severely wounded. John had been protecting his country in Iraq.

He told me his story, as he waited for his next painful therapy session. While we talked, he never once stopped petting Penny. His fingers gently massaged the top of her head, her ears and her neck. If he slowed, Penny would remind him, by silently nudging his arm. He would smile.

John never complained or grimaced, but I knew he was hurting. His recovery would take at least another year or longer. I felt so proud to know him and honored that he chose to share his story with me.

A week later, our second meeting was in his room. John was packed and waiting on his military escort to go back to Walter Reed Hospital in Washington D.C.

Penny and I sat and waited with him. This was the only gift we had for him. A thank you of sorts. He told me how much her presence meant to him. And then he said, “when I die, God will have to retire all of my angels. They have been very busy, protecting me and they must be very tired. You see Penny has been but one.”

As the escort approached down the long hall, John said I reminded him of his mom and asked if he could hug me. As he hugged me, at that precise moment, he was my son and his mom was in the room.

Dogs are our link to paradise. They don't know evil or jealousy or discontent. To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring--it was peace.

Milan Kundera