Storm Dog
Page 15
She also stood by me as the vet checked for an identification chip that could take Duke away from me. She noticed I was literally holding my breath and turning sort of blue. “Breathe,” she whispered. But she sighed in relief along with me when the vet finished running that wand along Duke’s body and found nothing clearly marking him as belonging to the military.
On the drive home, Gloria burbled on and on about Hollywood as Duke leaned forward from the back seat and put his head on the armrest so I could pat him. She was leaving in two weeks.
“Hey, Ariel?” She was suddenly serious.
“Yeah?”
“Promise to keep me up on how George is when he gets home?”
I promised. And like I said, I always keep my promises. Maybe Gloria and I can find our sisterhood in texts and emails about someone we both love.
Mama? She agreed to letting me keep Duke, but I don’t know what’s in store for Mama and me long-term. Sometimes opposites just have to coexist side by side without really understanding one another, I suppose. Ominous rain clouds jammed up on a bright shaft of sunshine make rainbows, right? Even if just for a few seconds.
Right now Duke and I are going outside. Sergeant Josie and Midnight are coming to pick us up for a picnic. She’s decided to stay in her cabin for now. I’m so glad she’s not leaving. She’s working on desensitizing herself by helping a group train dogs to be companions for wounded veterans who are having a hard time readjusting to civilian life. Midnight goes to those sessions, too, and follows one step behind Sergeant Josie wherever she goes. She makes Sergeant Josie laugh—a lot more than she did before. These days, her refrigerator is stuffed full with bacon.
A quick-hit thunder-gusher just banged through here, and I can smell the old-timey peonies opening up, the ones my grandmother planted outside my window, their sweet scent spilling along those warm breezes that push away a spring storm. I don’t mind saying it’s a truly G-L-O-R-I-O-U-S scent.
The hills to the west are covered with apple trees blooming for all they’re worth. On bad days, I will conjure up the image of those brave, brash little trees surviving the harshest change-of-season storms: brutal gales, merciless hail, a cacophony of thunder, and tidal waves of nightmare clouds. Surviving to throw open pink blossoms in poetical defiance of all the forces that had raged against them. I can hardly wait to taste their sweet-tangy, crisp apples come fall.
Duke is sitting, leaning all over me, snuffing in the world. I’d love to know if he can name to himself all the smells he’s so enjoying. We’ve tried—truly—but haven’t found out where he came from or what hardships he had to endure before finding me sobbing atop a mountain. I guess I’ll never know if Duke was trained to find danger in doorways or if someone cruel had kicked him through one too many times.
What I do know for certain is that he came to me in a storm, the gift of wild winds and to-the-soul rattling thunder, and taught me to dance.
Author’s Note
I need to thank my oh-so-astute and incredibly nurturing editor, Katherine Tegen, for her faith in me, and my poetic children—my creative muses and unofficial first editors—for encouraging me to spread my own wings with Ariel’s narrative.
Hopefully, Storm Dog has left you with many thoughts, yearnings even, and questions. One of the great joys in writing is that an individual story can open windows to many topics and themes, like those National Geographic magazine covers that captivate Ariel and introduce her to dog dancing.
If you’re interested in learning a little more about Military Working Dogs; K-9 trainers; rescue pets; dog dancing; dogs helping veterans suffering PTSD; and the real-life artists like Martha Graham mentioned in this novel, please visit my website www.lmelliott.com. I’ll be posting articles and bios (including some about famous MWDs like Cairo, who accompanied SEALs on the Osama bin Laden raid), plus photos of places like Sky Meadows State Park, recordings of catbirds and peepers, links to resources, and a few discussion questions you might want to consider. You’ll also find Ariel’s playlist of songs—so you can hear and dance to all of them yourself. I’ll also share her and Sergeant Josie’s favorite book recommendations, with a little poetry added in for fun.
A few words here, however, on some extraordinary beings: those MWDs. Dogs have served armies for centuries, as long ago as the Roman Empire. The United States has enlisted their aid since the American Revolution as sentries, scouts, and messengers, but did not formally train them for active duty until World War II. These days, the US military has about 2,500 working dogs serving here and abroad—as many as 600 were deployed in Afghanistan and Iraq during the most intense fighting of those wars.
Currently, new dogs are trained at Lackland Air Force Base, Texas, in an intense, painstaking three-month program that determines which specialty suits them best: patrol, detection, or tracking. From there, they go on for further training with chosen handlers. The program produces about 270 dogs a year. But only half who enter that initial training will graduate, proving they have the life-or-death necessary personality traits, endurance, devotion to duty, and responsiveness to human partners. It is a high bar for any dog (or human for that matter) to reach. Being too playful, for instance, might disqualify a dog, or wilting in one-hundred-degree-plus heat, or getting too agitated at the sound of gunfire.
Most MWDs are German Shepherds or Belgian Malinois, but sporting dogs like retrievers are particularly gifted in search-and-rescue missions or tracking someone building and planting IEDs. In addition to guarding bases and sweeping vehicles entering a compound, MDWs go out on patrol, where they and their handlers search for hidden, buried explosives by walking at the head of an infantry unit, making themselves easy targets for enemy snipers. High winds and brutal heat all dilute or confuse scents. Even then, dogs remain up to 100,000 times more alert to smells than humans. In 2010, after spending almost $19 billion and four years researching technology that could locate IEDs, a Pentagon task force concluded it couldn’t invent anything as effective or reliable as these amazing dogs.
MWDs are also trained to attack enemy combatants if necessary. Handlers recount hundreds of incidents of their canine partners saving both their lives and entire platoons. Some working dogs have even been awarded medals for their valor, including one named Remco, who received a Silver Star for charging an insurgent’s hideout in Afghanistan. Such bravery is the stuff of military legend, as is MWDs’ devotion to those they love. There are many a heart-wrenching story of dogs shielding their handlers from gunfire or refusing to leave their side when their human partners are injured during a battle.
Tragically, for decades—out of fear they could not adjust to a retired civilian life—these canine heroes were euthanized after their service. Thankfully, in 2000, Congress passed the Robby Law, named for a Marine Corps working dog, which allows retired MWDs to be adopted. Most go home with one of their handlers, although carefully screened civilians can adopt them as well.
(The current wait to adopt a MWD is eighteen months. On any given day across the country, six million rescue animals wait in shelters, hoping for a forever family. Perhaps you will take one to your heart soon.)
Sergeant Josie, by the way, is representative of some of our finest veterans—female K-9 handlers and Puerto Rican service men and women. Puerto Ricans have been American citizens since 1917, when President Woodrow Wilson signed the Jones-Shafroth Act. They have been serving our nation ever since: 65,000 during World War II, 61,000 in Korea, 48,000 in Vietnam, and some 35,000 currently in active duty. The Puerto Rican National Guard was cofounded by Luis R. Esteves, the first Puerto Rican and Hispanic to graduate from West Point, where he tutored a young Dwight D. Eisenhower, the man who would become World War II’s supreme commander of American forces and a US President.
Writing Storm Dog steeped me in the astounding devotion and love possible between dogs and their humans. Ariel’s story also crystallized my absolute faith in the healing delight, the soulful discovery, and the ennobling power of music, nature, and our
seemingly boundless imaginations.
Now . . . go out and express yourself. The world awaits to marvel at you and what you can think of and create. What will you do, as the poet Mary Oliver once wrote, “with your one wild and precious life?”
About the Author
Photo by www.annelordphotography.com
Growing up in Virginia, L. M. ELLIOTT constantly brought home injured rabbits and field mice, and spent as many hours as possible playing in the woods and streams. She thought about becoming a veterinarian until she fell in love with writing and making music. Like Ariel’s big brother, Elliott was once a drum major and believes in the power of music to change lives. She and her family have adopted and adored many rescue dogs. Writing Storm Dog was a particular joy, taking her back to her first loves. Her other books are award-winning historical novels, including Hamilton and Peggy!: A Revolutionary Friendship, Da Vinci’s Tiger, Give Me Liberty, Flying South, and her World War II works, Under a War-Torn Sky and its sequel, A Troubled Peace.
WWW.LMELLIOTT.COM
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
Books by L. M. Elliott
Da Vinci’s Tiger
Give Me Liberty
Hamilton and Peggy!: A Revolutionary Friendship
Annie, Between the States
Under a War-Torn Sky
Across a War-Tossed Sea
A Troubled Peace
Suspect Red
Flying South
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. While the Shenandoah Apple Blossom Festival and its parade are real events, all characters, dialogue, and plot incidents in Ariel’s narrative are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons or dogs, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Katherine Tegen Books is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
STORM DOG. Copyright © 2020 by Laura Malone Elliott. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.harpercollinschildrens.com
Cover art © 2020 by Patricia Castelao
Cover design by David DeWitt
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Library of Congress Control Number: 2019956224
Digital Edition AUGUST 2020 ISBN: 978-0-06-243002-1
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-243000-7
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2021222324PC/LSCH10987654321
FIRST EDITION
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