Man's Best Friend

My best friend

Dogs are truly man’s best friend. Nothing else gives you the same unconditional love or accepts you as you are—tall/short, fat/thin, ugly/amazing—nothing matters if you care about the dog. That’s all he asks. I’m a dog lover, always have been, always will be.

From childhood I’ve had wonderful dogs. They’ve shared everything with me—my bed, my Brussels sprouts, and my heart. They licked away my tears, lay by my side when I was sick, and stole my lollipops. They were my best friends, and I grieved for each one when their time on earth was up.

I’m also fond of heroes. So when I found Kevin Hanrahan’s blog about Military Working Dogs (MWDs), it seemed perfect. He has wonderful true stories about these heroic dogs and the work they do in Afghanistan, Iran, and other areas. They’ve saved many lives and, just as our military men and women do, often give their lives. Many suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).  For many years, they were euthanized after their service was over. President Clinton made them eligible for adoption, at least those with the right temperament.

Kate, Muffet, Misty

On Kevin’s blog, I read about a soldier named Marc and his dog Anax. You can read their story at http://khanrahan.com/2012/01/25/marc-and-anax/ 

At the same time, I was having trouble bringing one of my characters to life. As soon as I read about Anax, Jax sprang into my heart. He became Connor Moran’s dog in my new book, Time of Death, giving life to both of them. Jax is a hero in his own right, one of my favorite characters.

I have pictures of most of my characters, and I wanted one for Jax.  His real name is Zakhar, but he’s my Jax. I fell for the alert, caring look on his face.

Here’s Jax’s history as told by Connor, from Time of Death.

“Were you in the Middle East?”

Jax

“Afghanistan. Jax and his handler were assigned to my unit. Jax alerted on the wall of a house we were searching. It had a thin stucco surface, clearly a new addition. We figured, judging by Jax’s behavior, it hid weapons or explosives. We backed off to wait for the bomb squad to do their thing, but a little kid ran out and fired directly into the wall. The whole thing exploded, and the unit came under heavy fire. Jax’s handler was hit. When the insurgents swarmed us, Jax stood over him, protecting him. They killed his handler and shot Jax. It cost him a leg and he had to retire. I only had a few months left, so I adopted him.”

How about you? Do you have dogs or memories of your best friend from childhood?