No Buddy Left Behind: Bringing U.S. Troops' Dogs and Cats Safely Home From the Combat Zone (32 page)

Amber Daigle was next to show up with Ralphie, who did not enjoy being confined to his airline crate and was barking nonstop to let everyone know.

"Please forgive him," Amber said with a worried look on her face. "He's never been in a crate before, and I suspect he's figured out something's up."

"No need to apologize," Bev replied. "I'd be acting the same way if I were him."

The last person to show up was Sergeant Sean Alexander. Sean's dog, jolly, had quite a fan club, and all the members had come along to see him off.

The uniformed men and women circled around their dogs in the semidarkness, exchanging names and stories of where they were posted, all of them relieved to be sending their buddies to safety, yet not ready to let them go.

Spending time with these American soldiers confirmed all over again why Operation Baghdad Pups was so important. Hearing them talk about the inseparable relationship they had with their animal made me grateful that SPCA International and collaborating team members had been prepared to risk doing what others deemed impossible.

All of the animals were present and accounted for, but we still had about an hour's wait for the Gryphon plane. The four owners took advantage of the time, opened the crates and walked their dogs along the perimeter fence in the dark.

"Do you think we should get the others out one more time for a potty break?" Bev asked.

"That's probably a good idea. Just be careful to leash each one before letting them out of the crate. The last thing we need is to lose them now."

Bev and one SLG man walked the dogs, while I stood guard over the rest. Just then a uniformed man approached with a businesslike walk and a serious expression. When he asked, "Are you Terri Crisp," I got the feeling that he was not paying us a friendly visit. I felt my muscles tense and tried not to hold my breath, but trying and doing are two very different things when the stakes are this high.

"Yes," I replied.

"Your plane just landed."

Feeling weak at the knees with relief, I released my breath again and called Bev over, saying it was time to board the passengers. One step closer to home, we could hardly contain our excitement.

The Gryphon plane stopped about sixty yards from where we stood. It was hard to believe that the plane was there just to pick up twenty-eight animals and two people. After all I had been through to get to this point, this was about as close to a miracle as I could get.

"Well, guys, this is it," I said to the four owners squatting by their dogs' crates.

Bryan was the first to stand up and release Moody to the SLG man who was helping to load. Knowing how much Moody had meant to Bryan after all they had gone through, I wouldn't have been surprised to see him break down. But when Bryan turned around and looked at me, he flashed that big smile. "I am so glad he's getting out of here," Bryan said. "I can't tell you how relieved I am to know what good hands he's in." Bryan shook my hand, then turned on his heel and walked away without looking back. Before he disappeared into the dark, I saw him raise his hand and wipe his face.

Each of the soldiers surrounding Jolly took a turn to squat down and wish him luck on his journey, while Sean stood there soaking up the last view of his dog. As soon as his friends finished saying their goodbyes, Sean put his hand under Jolly's muzzle and sat nose to nose while silent tears streamed down his face. "See you back home, boy," he choked and then closed the door of the crate. With the help of a friend, Sean lifted the crate onto the baggage truck.

Bob Mullen looked so upset when he said goodbye to Buddha that for a moment I had to turn away. This soldier who had given me such a warm hug was already missing that physical contact with his buddy. As Bob put his fingers through the crate door, Buddha licked them and his eyes locked on Bob's, pleading with all the soul he could muster, "Don't leave me. Don't send me away."

Amber Daigle was last. "I just wish I could take him out and hug him one more time," she said, tears filling her eyes. "But I don't want to get his hopes up that he's coming back to base with me." Ralphie stopped barking long enough to lick her hand, but the moment Amber stepped away from him, he set to barking again, throwing himself against the crate door. If Ralphie could have busted the walls of that crate to get back to Amber, he would have.

After the baggage truck was full, it headed for the plane, and then, one by one, the SLG men carried the crates up the stairs. Because the cargo hold was too small for our purposes, we had been allotted one row of seats per animal. The Gryphon flight crew helped us to secure each crate with bungee cords.

When we finished, I stood at the front of the plane and looked down the aisle in amazement. Where passengers' heads and shoulders would normally be visible, there were only airline crates concealing puzzled eyes, four legs, and fur. Who would ever have thought it possible?

Roxie's new Iraqi friend Bev Westerman

SSG Bryan Spears, Moody, and Terri Crisp at BIAP Bev Westerman

"So, who's giving them the safety briefing?" the team leader teased as he came up behind me.

Laughing, I realized how much I was going to miss everyone at SLG.

"The pilot says we're good to go," he said, putting emphasis on "good."

"Okay then," I responded as tears stung my eyes, "I reckon this is goodbye."

"We'll look forward to seeing you in the fall when you come back for more animals," the SLG man said, confirming that we had not worn out our welcome.

"Okay, that's a promise. See you then!"

With the help of the Gryphon flight attendant, we made one final check to ensure that the animals were safely strapped to their seats, while Bev kept a watchful eye on Tom, who was situated next to her. Finally we were ready to go. I collapsed into my seat and closed my eyes, amazed and relieved that we'd made it this far.

When we reached cruising altitude, one of the flight attendants came down the aisle carrying trays of food. Bev and I ate like street beggars who hadn't had a meal in days. Between bites we joked that the number of peanut butter sandwiches we'd consumed in the last three days must have set a world record. After we finished stuffing ourselves, we checked on the animals. They had to be so confused. If only there was a way to explain what lay ahead.

Returning to my seat, I thought of the long journey still before us and of the people waiting back home, all the while praying this wouldn't come to a tragic end in France.

Gryphon passengers strapped in and ready to fly! Bev Westerman

t wasn't until turbulence woke me two hours into the flight that I gazed down the plane's aisle again, still amazed to see it filled with four-legged passengers. We were scheduled to land in Dubai in about an hour and a half. What news would be waiting for us was anyone's guess.

"We'll be starting our descent into Dubai shortly," the flight attendant said to Bev and me at the back of the plane, where we'd gone to sit with the lonely Patton.

As the Gryphon plane touched down on the Dubai tarmac, dawn rose against the tops of city skyscrapers that pierced through the smog, while the sun struggled to breach a misty gray horizon. The animals began to stir in their crates, undoubtedly more than ready for a potty break. I hoped they'd be getting one soon.

Parking alongside a FedEx aircraft, the Gryphon pilots finally cut the engines. A set of stairs was wheeled toward our plane, and the men locked them into place. When the flight attendant opened the door, our official greeting committee of FedEx employees boarded the plane.

The manager of operations for FedEx's Dubai ramp and hub stepped forward to introduce himself as Justin. We had been corresponding for days, working through many of the details required for our undetermined length of stay in Dubai. The moment he greeted us, Bev and I knew we were in good hands.

"I can't tell you how good it feels to be here," I said. "Bev and I are anxious to hear what the latest news is regarding the French."

Justin's smile faded a little, and lines of worry appeared around his eyes. "Dave's last e-mail from an hour ago reported that the French are still not budging," he said.

Although the news wasn't what I wanted to hear, Justin assured me that the FedEx team was on our side no matter what happened.