DOGS WHO GO THE DISTANCE
Biskotouli, a rescue black-and-tan mixed breed, ran the 29th Athens Classic Marathon (26.2 miles) with his two running partners in under four hours.
Xiao Sa, a stray mixed-breed dog, joined up with a biking troop and ran (and occasionally rode) more than 1,100 miles during a three-week trek across the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau.
“I never understood the phrase ‘A dog is a man’s best friend’ until he entered my life,” Gallego says. “When I first saw him, he was being abused by a three-year-old boy, who was hitting him across the nose with a stool. He was only six weeks old, and I approached the father of the child and offered to buy the puppy.”
Gallego’s wife, a marathon runner, began teaching Picasso how to accompany her husband while he runs in a push-rim racing chair. “She trained him to become a pacer,” he explains, “since keeping a steady pace is important when training. Because he is a ‘steady runner,’ he encourages me to stay on point. He keeps me company when I am doing four- to six-hour training runs. There have been times, when I injured my shoulder and couldn’t continue pushing uphill, when he has pulled me up and over the hill. He is so loyal and willing to please, how can a dog not be a man’s best friend?”
In 2011, Gallego completed the NYC Triathlon, and in doing so raised enough money to move a 21-year-old from a senior nursing facility into an apartment.
For Gallego, Picasso’s encouragement has made it possible to continue fighting for the rights of those less fortunate than he. “There are days when I may have left a nursing home in a depressed state, or just had a long day’s work and feel like I have nothing left,” he says. “But one look into his eyes and my worries are gone. All I see is a companion who only wants to be loved.”
IS YOUR DOG DESIGNED FOR DISTANCE? Some breeds are naturally suited for long-distance running, such as sled dogs or hunting dogs. Short-legged-dogs are generally not suited for long distances; nor are squishy-nosed dogs, because they overheat easily.
Louise survived the 9/11 attacks in New York City and brought cheer to those stranded on Liberty Island. (illustration credit 26.1)
Louise
GIVING THE GIFT OF SOLACE BEARDED COLLIE NEW YORK
In the maelstrom of downtown Manhattan on September 11, 2001, comfort was hard to come by. But on a triage boat that brought survivors from the ruins of the World Trade Center to New Jersey, a lost dog named Louise spent the day offering solace and distraction to the traumatized passengers.
Louise, a bearded collie, was adopted at the age of four by Abby McGrath and her husband, who commuted between a country house in upstate New York and an apartment in Manhattan. On September 11, they had driven down from Martha’s Vineyard and had reached lower Manhattan when a piece of debris fell through their roof. “We pulled to the side of the road and got out and looked around, and the World Trade Center had smoke coming out of it and papers were flying everywhere, but there was dead silence. No sirens, nothing,” remembers McGrath. Then there was a big boom, and when McGrath looked back into the car Louise was gone—spooked by the noise.
There was only an instant to worry about the dog: The couple turned back and saw the second tower collapse. There was ash everywhere, black ash that filled the air and coated their faces. As panic filled the streets, they realized that their safest bet was to go to a nearby colleague’s home.
BEARDED COLLIE
ORIGIN: One of Britain’s oldest breeds; probably originated with the komondor, a central European breed, but later used in Scotland for herding
COLOR(S): Black, blue, brown, or fawn, with or without white markings
HEIGHT: 20 to 22 inches
TEMPERAMENT: Active, strong, devoted dog with no signs of shyness or aggression, the Bearded collie has been bred for centuries to be a companion.
They were waiting to hear news of Louise when a woman from Liberty Island called to say that the dog was safe, but that they couldn’t pick her up until the island reopened to the public. Three days later, the phone rang and the McGraths were told they could come to the island. It was then, too, that they learned of Louise’s heroism by the side of a ferryboat captain named Chuck.
Chuck, seeing Louise running down the street in a panic, grabbed the end of her leash, assuming her owners would appear momentarily. By the time he realized that wasn’t the case, “it was too late,” says McGrath. “They were in the middle of black ash, their lungs filling up.” Chuck and Louise ran to a yacht docked nearby, where Chuck—whose job was operating a ferryboat between New York and Martha’s Vineyard—locked the two of them downstairs in the cabin to keep the ash out. Chuck then passed out, regaining consciousness as Louise licked his face. Hearing the ferry going by, he ran to ask whether they might get on.
“He was told it was a triage boat and there was no more room,” McGrath remembers, “but he explained he was a captain who could help. They said he had to leave the dog, and he said no.” So Louise and Chuck got onto the boat, where they spent the rest of that day helping as they could.
“All the kids and the people were petting her, and she was licking their faces,” McGrath says. “She was comforting them and Chuck said then they all started to smile.” All day this went on, back and forth with new, terrified passengers. “She made them comfortable and happy and took their minds off the issues.”
For the next three days, Captain Chuck and Louise lived in the makeshift shelter at Liberty Island until the island reopened to the public and the McGraths could pick up Louise. “When I got there, the people who were working there said, ‘Please don’t take Louise. She’s the thing that keeps us going,’ ” McGrath remembers.
Louise and family friend Isabel Powell on the beach (illustration credit 26.2)
Louise at first refused to get back in the car, and disliked riding in it for much of the fall. Eventually, she seemed to forget the trauma; she died in 2010, at the age of 15. McGrath stayed in touch with Chuck until he decided that because of the trauma of September 11 he could no longer live in New York City. “We’ve had dogs who weren’t perfect, but she was,” says McGrath of Louise. “She was the dog of all dogs.”
WHY DOGS LICK YOUR FACE Dogs’ instinct to lick your face or other part of your body stems from their wolf ancestry, where licking is viewed as a form of communication. Puppies lick their mothers to let them know that they are hungry. Modern domesticated puppies might try to get some food from you by licking your face. Licking a person’s face is a sign of respect and of the fact that the dog accepts the owner’s leadership role.
Holly Barnes and Bear share a hug. (illustration credit 27.1)
Bear
THE WAR DOG WHO CAME HOME MIXED BREED WASHINGTON, D.C.
Holly Barnes didn’t go to Afghanistan looking for love. As a civilian employed by USAID, Barnes was supposed to embed with the military and to work with Afghans toward stabilizing communities in the war-torn region.
In June 2011, after nearly four months of living in chaos without a single day off, Barnes booked herself to go to Amsterdam for a few days of leave. “I desperately needed to get away from the intensity to a place that was clean and safe,” she says. But when she arrived at the airport, she was told she didn’t have the proper paperwork to leave the country. So it was back to work, this time on assignment in southern Afghanistan, an area she describes as “fairly kinetic,” but relatively safe compared with where she had most recently been stationed, as it had been cleared and held by the U.S. Marines for several months.
Two plane rides and two helicopter rides later, an exhausted Barnes, still disappointed not to have had a break, arrived at a forward operating base in southern Afghanistan on a day so hot that there were reports that the asphalt on the street was melting. When she was led into a cool tent she felt her heart lift at a surprising sight: a mother dog and her two six-month-old puppies. The Marines introduced Barnes to Claire, an Afghan mixed breed they had found on the side of the road and taken into the compound along with her offspring, Bear and
Dozer. Another dog, named Jack, was also living on the base. The dogs accompanied the men on patrol and were rewarded with leftover rations at mealtime.
DOGS ON THE BATTLEFIELD
Cairo, a Belgian Malinois, became famous for his role in the top-secret mission to capture or kill Osama bin Laden in May 2011.
Dogs’ superior sense of smell is prized by the military. After four years and billions of dollars in research to establish a technology to locate an improvised explosive device (IED), the Pentagon admitted that no technology was better for this task than a dog’s nose.
The United States had 2,800 dogs deployed worldwide in 2011, more than any other country.
Barnes was immediately smitten: “I’ve never seen a dog more loving than Bear,” she says. During the day, “I would go into the tent where they lived more than I needed to, and I think the Marines thought I was nuts. They were all so proper and professional and I would sit on the floor with Bear’s head on my lap while we were having briefing meetings.” After about two weeks, Bear followed her into her room and lay down.
The Marines felt just as strongly about the canine clan. But while having the dogs was an enormous comfort, it was also against the rules. “These dogs were clearly a morale boost for them, but there is something called General Order Number One, which states that on base there is … no alcohol, and no pets,” says Barnes. Taking stray dogs into military bases not only can prove distracting but also can put the personnel at risk for rabies.
Three weeks after Barnes arrived, her short assignment came to an end. On the day of her departure, she knelt down before Bear. “I told him I didn’t know how or when, but I would claim him as mine one day. I had no idea how I could make that a reality, but I promised him, myself, and the Marines who loved him that I would find a way. I am sure about few things,” she continues, “but something about Bear convinced me it was my privilege and obligation to make sure he would be safe.”
Bear made the long journey from Afghanistan to the United States to be reunited with Barnes. (illustration credit 27.2)
Three months later, when she was in Kandahar, Barnes received an email asking her to make good on her promise: An incoming commanding officer had ordered the men to get rid of the dogs. In short order, they would be put down. But if Barnes could help, the men would try to buy time.
Barnes found the Nowzad shelter in Kabul, founded by a British Royal Marine, which agreed to care for the dogs provided their transportation could be arranged. A sergeant agreed to escort them by helicopter for what would be a three-day journey. The animals arrived safely, but getting them out of the country and providing proper health care would cost several thousand dollars per dog.
Barnes with Jack (left) and Bear (right) on the day of their arrival in Houston, Texas (illustration credit 27.3)
The mother, Claire, had bonded with a major who had since returned to the States. At the Marines’ suggestion, Barnes got in touch with her; immediately, the major arranged for Claire—who was pregnant—to fly to her home in North Carolina. That left Bear and his buddy Jack (Dozer, Bear’s brother, had shown signs of aggression, according to the Marines, and been put down.) “I paid $5,000 of my own money, and I still hadn’t met my mark,” says Barnes. “And the shelter was getting concerned about the expense in caring for the two dogs, Bear in particular, who at about a year old weighed some 90 pounds and was roughly the size of a Great Dane.”
Barnes turned to friends and family but couldn’t meet the goal. A generous couple in Texas, hearing of her plight from the Soldiers’ Animal Companions Fund, made up the difference; on April 6, Bear and Jack boarded a flight to Houston, Texas. Barnes, who had returned from Afghanistan just a few days before, was at the airport to greet them, along with Jack’s adopter, a friend of Barnes’s from Austin. Also there were the donors who had made it all possible, who drove from Dallas to videotape the event. “Then we learned Customs had to sign off before we could take possession of the dogs, and I panicked. It was 4:43 p.m. on the Thursday before Easter weekend,” Barnes remembers. “But I raced over there and just told them the story, and they stamped the paperwork.”
Now, Bear and Barnes have settled into their new apartment outside Washington, D.C., where both are recovering from life in a war zone. “He still cowers at loud noises,” says Barnes. “We both do. But he’s ridiculously happy and getting more confident every day. He frolics in the park with other dogs, and he’s so gentle with them.” At night, he sleeps soundly beside her. As for Barnes, “When I was in Afghanistan, I was just focused on getting through the day. Coming back was difficult. Reconnecting with people was surprisingly hard. I don’t know what I would do without Bear. The best part of each day is the part with Bear. We are meant to be together.”
WHY ARE CERTAIN DOGS SUITED FOR WAR? Bear may not have been on the battlefield, but many dogs do serve in the armed forces. The German shepherd and Belgian Malinois are the most common breeds used by the military. Some characteristics of these well-suited war dogs include a sharp sense of smell, courage, intelligence, adaptability, strength, and speed.
Cooper, a German shorthaired pointer, lost the sight in both eyes at the age of two. (illustration credit 28.1)
Cooper
THE BLIND HUNTER GERMAN SHORTHAIRED POINTER KENTUCKY
Dogs who are owned for the purpose of performing a specific task-herding sheep, for instance—are often viewed more as valued workers than as pets. Then there is Cooper, a German shorthaired pointer who was raised from puppyhood by Mike Cole to retrieve pheasants, ducks, and quail.
Cooper proved to be preternaturally adept at the task. By the age of four months, he was pointing, and shortly thereafter he was bounding after the fallen creatures and retrieving them for his owner with extraordinary precision. When he senses a bird nearby, “he crouches like a tiger, moves slow as the scent is coming in, and as the scent comes in strong he will not move,” says Cole. “He’s getting high on that bird scent. It’s a buzz to him.”
For two years, Cooper was Cole’s constant companion, traveling from their home in Mount Sterling, Kentucky, to hunt in Nebraska, Minnesota, and Wisconsin. At night, he would sleep at the foot of his master’s bed. Says Cole, “There’s a bond between hunter and hunting dog that can’t be explained.”
And then, when Cooper was two years old, he was sprayed in the face by a skunk while hunting. The next day, when Cole checked on Cooper’s face, he noticed that something about the dog’s eyes looked off. A visit to the vet brought crushing news: Cooper had blastomycosis, a disease caused by a fungus that can result in blindness. One of his eyes had to be removed, and he lost sight in the other. The vet, knowing what often happens to hunting dogs who are no longer able to do their jobs, asked whether Cole wanted to keep his dog alive. When Cole said there was no other option, the vet smiled and said, “That’s all I needed to hear.”
GERMAN SHORTHAIRED POINTER
ORIGIN: Thought to be Germany
COLOR(S): Solid liver or combination of liver and white
HEIGHT: 21 to 25 inches
TEMPERAMENT: Friendly, intelligent, willing to please, and enthusiastic
Then one day Cooper fell off the porch. “I was sitting there bawling,” Cole remembers. “I was thinking, ‘This isn’t fair to him. I’m keeping him alive because I can’t deal with putting him down.’ ” Cole told his wife what he was thinking, and she replied, ‘Good. Now we know what to do about you if you go blind.’ ” And that, says Cole, was that. “Cooper the bird dog might be over,” Cole remembers deciding, “but Cooper my best friend will have a long life. He’s my best friend, and this is between him and me.”
Over the next four months, Cooper and Cole made some ten trips to a vet in Cincinnati to treat Cooper. “I went in one time and there was a young woman in there and I asked her if she was OK and she said, ‘My dog is going to be blind.’ I said, ‘It’s not that bad.’ I went to my truck and got Cooper,” who hopped down without a leash, tail wagging, to greet them. “And I to
ld her he was blind. She was surprised, but I told her, ‘You’ll be closer than you’ve ever been. You’ll be his Seeing Eye human.’ ”
When Cooper first lost his sight, Cole imagined that he would only be a house dog, but he has continued to keep Cole company on all his trips. Not only does he still go hunting, he accompanies Cole when he gives presentations explaining bird hunting to children. “Cooper doesn’t know he is blind, and his hearing and smelling capabilities are phenomenal,” says Cole. “And he is so smart. I can be feeling down and he’ll do something silly. I’d rather get one bird with him than five with my other dogs. It’s not about the numbers but about quality time. It’s about friends.”
Cooper and Mike Cole still enjoy the outdoors together. (illustration credit 28.2)
HOW LONG HAVE HUMANS USED DOGS FOR HUNTING? The origin of the hunting dog dates back thousands of years, when a hunter’s life depended on his hunting success. Hunters used dogs to help hunt for food and hides for clothing. The hunting dog’s role changed as humans started to breed dogs for specialized roles such as guarding and companionship.
Alfie visits with some of the residents of Victoria House Assisted Living facility. (illustration credit 29.1)
Alfie
IN GOOD COMPANY MIXED BREED OHIO
As the activities director at Victoria House Assisted Living facility in Austintown, Ohio, Susan Greco is supposed to come up with ways to brighten the residents’ lives. Perhaps her most inspired idea was to open up the home not just to the occasional dog visitor but to a dog-in-residence.
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