This is my new puppy.
At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
My husband has told me that dogs in Afghanistan are very friendly to anyone in uniform. As a result, there are several that hang around the base, particularly near the chow hall.
Annie is one of those dogs. I’ve named her Annie because I don’t know anything about her living situation. How often does she eat? Where does she sleep? She probably hasn’t had a shot or heartworm pill in her whole life. How will she survive? Poor little orphan puppy-dog.
This, by the way, is called displacement. When I get tired of worrying about these things as they relate to my husband (minus the shots and heartworm pills), I can move to being upset about the dog. It mixes things up a little; keeps the anxiety from getting old.
Annie, my husband reports, will trot at his heels, stopping when he stops and starting again when he walks. This does not come as a surprise to me. The only thing that is shocking is that every dog in theater hasn’t come to roost outside of his quarters. Children and animals adore my husband.
T mentioned the dog several times before he sent me a picture. When he finally emailed the photo to me, it came with this caveat: “You’re going to want this dog, but I’ll send you the picture anyway.”
Translation: “Don’t get your hopes up. The dog stays here.”
I can understand. I can respect that. I still wanted to see a picture of the puppy.
I handled it like a champ. I believe my reply email went something like this:
Oh my goodness. She is so freakin cute and I want her. Can we keep her? Please, please, please. Owen is really bored and needs a friend. I need this dog. Please?
I even offered to wear one of T’s old uniforms when I go to pick her up at the airport so she won’t be scared.
Unfortunately, as accessible as my husband is to children and pets, he is inexorable when it comes to being persuaded to ship live animals overseas.
I think it’s unreasonable. I mean, seriously. If we named her Annie, I wouldn’t even have to change the title of this blog. Annie could put the “ie” in Mowenackie.
I think it’s a sign.