The Dog is Going to Get Spoiled

Twenty years ago, I loaded my gear, boarded a C-17, and several hours later found myself in the middle of Baghdad, Iraq for what would be a long year at the start of the Iraqi Civil War. That first deployment would mark a major change in my military career and my life.  Sometimes it seems like not that long ago. I can still feel the heat of the end of the Iraqi summer. I can still smell the fetid open sewage and rotting trash.  I can still hear the "whump" of mortars coming into the base.  Then I remember that in those twenty years, both my parents passed, I got married, had two wonderful boys, watched Sam get married, and I retired from the Army!  It's then when I realize that 2004 was a long time ago.

2004 was so long ago that Samantha grew up, went to school, and became an Army officer - among other things. Being the father and retired "Senior Army Leader" of a young officer, I have to walk the line between sympathetic listener and dispenser of sage advice.  

Shortly after Sam and Mitch got married, they announced that they were buying a dog. A puppy to be exact. A Golden Retriever puppy. A whole $2400 worth of puppy. Prior to getting the dog I dispensed my fatherly advice, "Now is not the time to get a dog. You are both very busy with your careers and the Army could send you both away at the same time." I followed up with, "I am not watching the dog if you get deployed."

 

Do. Not. Get. A. Dog.

So now, of course, the fucking dog is our guest for the next three months because both Sam and Mitch are away from their home for extended military duties.  

Yes, Sam is deployed in the Middle East. Twenty years after I deployed, she is now living the life that I remember so well.  Sam tried describing her base to me.  I stopped her and said I could describe it to a T without ever having been there. T-Walls? Check.  Generators droning somewhere nearby? Check. Container Housing? Yep. Sunshades, connexes, gravel parking lots, NTVs? Got 'em all. Sam is away learning how other places in the world work through the lens of military operations.

Buoy is a very well trained, two-year-old Golden. She is a big, clutzy dog that laps up water everywhere when she drinks, comes bounding into rooms with reckless abandon, and pulls on her leash. She plays with her toys and somehow shoves them farther under the couch than she can reach. She knows shen you are eating something and will sit at your feet and stare. I call her 78lbs of dumb and 2lbs of super smart. She brings an energy to the house that our ten-year-old dog, Lucie, does not have.  

Samantha, being who she is, sent Buoy with operating instructions. Two pages of when to walk the dog, how far to walk the dog, training commands, plus all of the feeding and veterinary information.  

 

Now are lives are filled with a temporary addition that seems like grandparent training. I don't follow the instructions, I spoil the dog with table scraps, and let her bark when Lucie barks.  I think of it as giving a grandchild a chocolate cookie and Coke after 7pm before returning the toddler to the parents. And, you know, that's what you get for not following dad's sound advice. 

 

Woof! 

The Toilet is Smoking

Grant almost got me one this one.  His sense of humor is funnier that either of his siblings and rivals mine.  His is better because there is thought that goes into his jokes.

I had only been home from Kentucky for less than 24 hours when he came into the kitchen to state that the toilet was smoking.  He said it, but could not keep a straight face as his cheeks started to turn upward. I was just entering my what-the-eff-now state of mind when I saw him conceal the smile so I played along.

The toilet is smoking. 

Stogies apparently.   

Good work, Grant.  Good work.

Adulting - Graduate Level

Twenty years ago, I packed by duffle bags and in a few short weeks of training, medical updates, and briefings, found myself in Baghdad, Iraq. Lisa and I were only engaged a few weeks at the time. Samantha was seven years old. We departed each other's company at Syracuse International Airport. I distinctly remember Samanth running past security to give me one more hug. I remember a lot of tears, even from bystanders. I was something right out of a movie. 

Over that summer in 2004, everything changed for me in meeting Lisa. Our whirlwind courtship opened up a whole new world for me. Then I left. Everything I loved back in New York. 

I remember getting into Baghdad in the middle of the night. It was hot. I was tired. I was scared. I was scared not so much for myself but for the family back home who would worry about my safety.

The deployment passed. There were moments of terror and some personal trials of leadership under fire. Through it all, I had the light at the end of the tunnel of seeing Lisa and Samantha and my family again.  Somewhere in late June 2005, we all happily reunited.

And life fast forwarded twenty years. We married. We moved to North Carolina. We had children. We grew up - including Samantha who went on to graduate from a prestigious university with an Army ROTC Commission. 

Samantha stated her military career as I ended mine and I watched her grow as a young leader in the 21st century's new Army. She and I are able to talk our business language, and I can pass on some of my lessons learned. 

Earlier this year we learned that Sam was going to deploy. My heart both rose and sank at the same time. It rose knowing that she was going to go into harm's way and learn firsthand some of the lessons I learned.  Some stories can be told. Others require the experience. 

Earlier this month I took her to her unit at zero-dark-early. Flooded by sodium lights, families gathered in the parking lot as Soldiers moved gear into trucks and exchanged last hugs.  So, this is what is feels like to say good-bye from this side. Sam was in work mode, a convenient excuse to not get bogged down in the emotions of the situation.  I was in let-her-do-her-thing mode for the same reason.

She kept her phone on for a long time. Long enough to watch her plane taxi on the runway heading to someplace over there.  There was a heavy sigh. It came from me.  

Welcome to graduate level parenting and adulting.