It has been a very long week. And while eggnog and vodka have been moderately successful coping mechanisms, I figured I’d try a less fattening and more sober approach: puppy therapy.
There were a lot of things about Jonathan’s first deployment that caught me off guard. That is to say that pretty much everything caught me off guard, because most of my working knowledge of the military came from the movie “Stripes.” It turns out there’s a lot less mud wrestling in the real-life army than there is in the Bill Murray/John Candy army. See? I’m learning.
One of my more pleasant caught-off-guard deployment moments was learning that Afghanistan is filled with friendly, camo-loving puppies.
Then, to balance it, there was the time when I found out Jonathan could not, in fact, Skype with me without his big-ass gun hanging around his neck for my viewing pleasure, because they are required to carry their guns with them everywhere. I guess that shouldn’t have been too surprising. Because of, you know, the war. And also because they had guns a lot of the time in “Stripes,” I think.
Silver lining: this picture.
Jonathan didn’t (and doesn’t) give me detailed descriptions of the work he does while deployed. Which took (and is still taking) some getting used to for me; I could spend an hour describing the intricate pattern in which I organized the yellow highlighters in our supply drawer at work, while he can give me a rundown of his entire week in one sentence. Sometimes less. A fragment usually covers it. And while our communication sometimes suffers for it, we’ve worked our way into a mutual understanding of it, at least. An understanding that sometimes includes more puppy pictures.
And here’s one more from his first deployment. Because apparently I have a death wish.