My daughter’s dog has “issues”. If you don’t get him around people, bikes, dogs, children, … he’s a great dog. She got him at a shelter, so she drove him off the lot as-is. She’s not fussy about the strays she takes in. So when she found Peanut, lying half-dead on the sidewalk, it was on.
The problem is, he doesn’t fit the mold for any rodent at this developmental stage. When she found him only a week ago, his toes were fused together, his eyes were still closed, and his ears were pinned back to his head. After one week of being nursed back to health, he has doubled in weight, and developed rapidly.
So why am I writing about my new grandchild on Memorial Day? Because he’s darn cute. I told him we need to honor our troops, and he peed on me. Apparently he has issues too. I didn’t expect him to be an anti-war mouse-rat-squirrel-weasel.
In a blinding change of subject, I’m going to go out on a limb here. I wasn’t keen on the invasion of Iraq, in search of WMDs, but I fully support the war on terrorism. Those assholes want to bring their fight to American soil—don’t be surprised when we fight back. I deeply appreciate the men and women who put their lives on the line each day for our country, and I can’t describe the respect I have for those who have given their lives in the service of the Nation.
During Desert Storm, we lived on a Naval base in Spain that served as a major staging area for troops going to Kuwait. As such, we were a target. We had armed guards patrolling the school playground, which abutted the perimeter fence. That really brings it home.
I lived through Vietnam, when our troops came home to ridicule and scorn. I don’t want to ever see that again. I hope you’ll join me today in honoring the men and women in our Armed Forces. At a time when Hollywood is throwing every superhero in the books at us, our troops are true heroes.