Memorial Day mystery mammal

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.

13 thoughts on “Memorial Day mystery mammal

  1. They sure are. The part of Ontario, now dubbed “The Highway of Heros” is the part from Trenton where they land at the Air Force Base to where they are transported up to Toronto, where they are then taken to their final resting grounds. It’s a sad day when you see the bridges and overpasses filled to capacity with people waving Canadian flags, showing their support as the hearst is driven by.
    I just wish our troops could come home to stay…alive!

  2. Having served time in Viet Nam, with its inanities, I must say you’ve captured the spirit of this military-remembrance day with radical wit in this one sentence:

    “I told him we need to honor our troops, and he peed on me.”


  3. I agree! Our troops deserve our support and gratitude. There have been a lot of military men in my family–Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines, we have most of the bases covered.
    My grandfather fought in World War I (his brother, however, spend most of his time in the brig). My father and several uncles served in World War II. The three uncles, all in the Navy, were on different ships the day the flag was raised on Iwo Jima. A cousin died in Korea. Four more–three in the Air Force, one Marine–were in Vietnam.

    Peanut is adorable, whatever he is. (He looks like a mouse to me.)

  4. I remember the troops coming home from Vietnam. There was no pride shown in America’s faces. There was, in fact, disdain. I worked at Base Ops at Shepard AFB when the POWs were returning. In fact, we hid their families from the press until their flights arrived. While the families and extended families were so happy, there were throngs of demonstrators right outside the gates of the AFB. Such a shame.
    As ex-Air Force and a veteran, I can see the pride in our troops now, but I wish there was lots more. Posts such as your post today help remind us why we have the freedoms we do have. YEAH our Troops!

  5. Several years ago Mom and Steve were visiting me here in Seattle. Steve was a DI in the Marines and that day he was wearing a Marine Corps belt buckle. We were doing the usual tourist traps here in Seattle; the Pike Place Market, the Space Needle… At least three times that day someone came up to Steve and asked if he’d been in the Marine Corps. When he answered yes, that person would shake his hand and say, “Thank you.”

    I’m voting that it’s the mutant love child of a rat and a squirrel.

  6. Thanks Karla for the wonderful post. I agree and think maybe you can develop a special wmd with peanut’s help. Sick his relatives on the enemy. It’s a win, win!

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