02. September 2007 · Comments Off on Memo: Another Bottle of That Whine? · Categories: Ain't That America?, Fun and Games, General, GWOT, Iraq, Politics, War, World

To: Representatives Moran, Tauscher and Porter
From: Sgt Mom
Re: Slimed in the Green Zone

1. Well, my heart pumps pure piss for your pathetic predicament and your wounded sensibilities. Traveling all the way to Iraq, to demonstrate your tender consideration for the troops serving there at the whim of the Bushchimphitler and his eeeeevil war, only to find out that they had your number, short bios and an assortment of your previously reported remarks on the war. What a shocker, eh?

2. Yep, it sure was just another example of the deep-laid plots of the eeeeevil Bushchimphitler and his crafty minions… that troops assembled to meet ‘n greet should actually have read news reports. Really… how damn stupid do you really think the average military member is? Wasn’t it enough of a warning, when John Kerry’s adlibbed comment about dropping out of college and being stuck in Iraq rebounded within twenty-four hours with this priceless repost from troops in-theater?

3. Allow me to break it to you gently, lady and gentlemen; the military mind-set, like that of the Boy Scouts worships at the high altar of preparedness. It is an essential part of the culture to swiftly acquisition and disseminate necessary intelligence about whatever task they are ordered to accomplish. Doesn’t matter if its’ taking Omaha beach, Baghdad or providing the suitable background for a collection of globe-trotting pols burnishing their credentials; be assured that they will do their homework, and come to the party with all the angles covered.

4. Trust me on this also; while there a great many in the military today are apolitical, indifferent, or otherwise un-interested in the current political landscape, many more are intensely interested. They are betting their lives, in a manner of speaking, on their ability to transform Iraq and Afghanistan into something with a closer resemblance to a functioning and fairly democratic nation. Which may yet be possible: South Korea didn’t look like much of a good bet fifty years ago and look at the place now.

5. Finally, this is a wired and interconnected world these days; military bases overseas are not nearly as isolated as they were fifteen, or thirty years ago. That you could innocently assume that what you had said to your constituents or in the halls of power would not reach the ears of those serving in a garrison on the other side of the world indicates that you have not taken this to heart. You assumed that all the good little uniformed peasantry would trot obligingly up and tug their forelocks for their betters, and never mind in the least that your previous remarks could be construed as undermining their mission. I trust that you have been enlightened.

6. Military people do vote, you know. And sometimes their votes even get counted.

Sincerely,
Sgt Mom

01. September 2007 · Comments Off on Beginning to Process My Grief · Categories: General

Angie came into my life when I went to Dee’s house to adopt a black retired broodmama. As Dee was introducing me to the other dogs, she said “This one’s Angela.” Angie got off her dog-bed and walked over to me. I knelt down, and she looked deep into my eyes. Then she licked my chin, and went back to her dog-bed where she stayed the rest of the time I was there.

I met the dog that I had gone to adopt, and she was wonderful, but she wasn’t the one for me. I had already been chosen. Angie chose me when she licked my chin.

Because she chose me,
I have experienced the adaptability of an “old” dog as she learned new tricks.

Because she chose me,
I have learned how much love I can feel for another being.

Because she chose me,
I have experienced the joy of her behavior changing over the years
from aloof to affectionate.

Because she loved me,
she adapted to unstructured routines and routine absences.

Because she loved me,
she accepted the other dogs I brought into our home,
and let them share the space in my heart.

Because I loved her,
there were new beds at Christmas, and no walks longer than her aging legs could handle.

Because I loved her,
there were nights spent on the couch with interruptions every few hours.

Because I loved her,
there were home-cooked meals and special treats, and fewer nights away from home.

Because she loved me,
she stood up for me, balancing on tired legs to show me she was ok
and I could leave on my business trip with a clear conscience.

Because I loved her, I let her go.
My heart is breaking because I couldn’t be there at the end,
but it was time to let go, and I had promised her I would,
because I loved her.

And because I loved her and she loved me,
she will run forever in my heart,
Because she chose me.

-mvy 9/1/07-

angel

p.s. Timmer – My next greyhound will be here by Christmas. He’s still racing in Jacksonville, but seems to be racing towards a couch more than towards the winner’s circle.