canine
Lulu’s Lottery: Life Lessons from a Boxer
David Shade details his battle with post-traumatic stress disorder after leaving the military and
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how his boxer puppy named Lulu helped him transition back into society t the tender age of 18, I left my hometown of Sellersville, Pennsylvania to join the army. It was 2005, and the war on terror was raging far away from my small corner of the globe. Still, I signed a four-year contract with the United States Army, swept up by the promise of adventure, thrills, and the opportunity to serve my country. In the midst of global strife and national unrest, I thought that at least I could do my part as a member of a time-honored organization. I was naïve to the world and thought myself invincible. Inside, of course, I was still just a boy. And so I shipped out to basic training and was immediately confronted by the most challenging physical and mental tests of my life up until that point. From crawling in the mud under a hail of automatic machine gunfire to surviving the gas chamber and then enduring 12-mile road marches while carrying more than 60 pounds of gear, training was brutal at times. On top of this incredibly tough regimen, we were also taught to suppress our emotions in order to make it through. Oddly enough, in the midst of these grueling tasks, I began to experience the sharp, intoxicating rush of dopamine after successfully completing such adrenaline-filled events. It was addictive. At a certain point, though, training concludes—and the real work must begin. By the time we received our orders and shipped out to Afghanistan for 15 months, we had already gone over field training, mock deployments and airborne jumps. Our mission was to support the local Afghan government—and to find and destroy the enemy. When I arrived in Afghanistan, I was well-trained, physically and mentally tough. I was ready for combat…or so I thought. What I quickly learned was that no amount of training can completely control how an individual will react to combat the first time. Some men freeze, while others laugh out of nervousness like they are having fun. I think it’s just our primal way of trying to survive such harrowing situations. I have often heard the saying that war is “long periods of extensive boredom, broken up by moments of sheer terror.” Nothing is truer than that. While overseas, I found that I had to suppress my emotions just as I had done in basic training, but this time to an extreme degree. And I discovered some tricks along the way. If I trained my mind to subconsciously think that I was already dead, then I no longer feared death. This mindset served me very well, as it is, ironically, the fear of death
When I was asleep at night and there was a noise, [Lulu] would immediately alert me of the impending danger. For some people, this might have been irritating. For me, it was exactly what I needed. And for the first time since my return into civilian life, I could relax. It didn’t matter if she was just barking at the mailman; her dedication to guarding the house allowed me to delegate some of that responsibility to her. It provided a sense of comfort, like a warm fireplace crackling in the middle of winter. 36
BARKS from the Guild/May 2018
Photo © David Shade
Author David Shade felt that he had to remain vigilant at all times once back home after leaving the military, but boxer Lulu shared the burden and helped him relax
that can lead to your own death or that of your comrades. I should have died many times during the tour. There were vehicle rollovers, improvised explosive device (IED) blasts and even close combat situations with the enemy. But I was lucky. Suppressing my emotions and fear gave me the ability to perform at the highest level. Soon, however, I would learn that this mindset came at a cost. This type of emotional state serves a soldier very well in the midst of a gritty war…but not so much back in western civilized society. After receiving a diagnosis of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), coping with those hidden wounds can pose a significant challenge. The ideology of being a warfighter contradicts with our world, and I think some people never can fully make the mental transition back to what is considered a normal mindset. This is why so many young veterans commit suicide; they cannot cope with the competing ideologies.
Light in a Dark Room
I was one of many returning warfighters who had to walk this difficult path of transitioning back into society. I think every person tries to find their own way if they can, but we received zero training to help us with this practically impossible task. As soon as you exit the military, you are used goods. You’re outdated. In an instant, a soldier goes from having an entire support network to absolutely nothing except a one-way ticket to get off the military base and head home. Driving off that base for the