My name is Taz, and this is the story of my retirement from active duty to civilian life as a service dog. My hashtag is #tazoteausmc and this Day 4.
Food lady got up at 0700 for morning patrol. There may be hope for her yet. There was a minor fuss when I jumped into the back of an MP’s vehicle, and then there was a lot of explaining about the difference between police and military and I shouldn’t do that. I’m starting to feel like I might never understand any of this. But the uniform dude was very cool and promised I could play with him on Monday.
Some very little human girl grabbed me and hugged me in the lobby, and I just stood there, and everyone thought that was great. I don’t think they understood that I was sniffing her stroller for explosives. You never know about these things. And why do small humans grab giant soldiers they’ve never met? What if I had wanted a little snack? Idiots. This place is filled with idiots.
There is something called Arti Gras going on here, and food lady says I can’t go because it will upset me. There’s lot of traffic in the street because of it, and NO ONE is watching out for unfriendlies. NO. ONE. How are these people even alive? The police are giving the people directions. Why aren’t they patting them down? I barked my head off when I saw one with a gun, and everyone just pointed and smiled. Someone took a picture of me with my food tree. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot.
The smaller human has a friend here, and they are practicing shooting people and blowing stuff up on the demo screen. I keep telling them that’s not what it’s like and how to do it better, but they just pat me like I don’t know what I’m talking about. Are they even serious? The gunfire started bugging me, so food lady told them to switch to something else or put on their headgear. I’m going to go to sleep for a while. I don’t understand life here at all. When are they going to practice for real? Am I going to get to help? I’m good at incursions, and I’m used to going in first to protect my platoon. All they do is stare at the screen. It almost makes me miss the trips to the sand pond.
I miss my unit, but food lady and the kids are kind of cool, and the one cat likes to lick my ears. That feels nice. I really wanted to go see the Arti Gras, but food lady was not having it. Can we PLEASE go see the Arti Gras people? Or the dancers at Copacabana? I swear, I won’t chase them. Far. Really. She said no. Food lady is one tough Sarge.
— Excerpt from the Diary of Taz, a Retired Military Service Dog
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