I am sending an update on my buddy Frago. Poor Frago must have some lingering memories of the hell where he had to forge for himself, get hit with stones, and dodge bullets. We had a large storm with wind, thunder, lightening and heavy rain. When frago heard some of the initial loud thunder claps, he ran into a corner, huddled up, shaking, and crying. I got down on all fours and slowly approached him, laid down with him, then after about a half hour, I walked him back to the bedroom, telling him how much of a good boy he is. He climbed into the bed pulling himself tightly to me and licked my face up again. Being a combat veteran myself, I know what was in Frago's mind. He just needed a little time to be ensured he was safe and knew I would risk my life to keep him safe.
When I came home from Viet Nam, 3 July,1967-'69, I was a mangled up twenty-year-old, going on ninety a mental and physical wreck, trying to put some sense into what the heck had happend in my life. I am still trying to make sense of what I have seen and my participation in that nightmare. My first night home was laced with heavy thunder storms, complete with thunder and lightening. My mom came into the room and found me huddled under my bed crying. She walked out and shut the door. After all, they went through WWII, they were tough. Frago knows he can count on me, he feels the love, and enjoys the special food and treats I bought him. We have totally bonded, suffer PTSD together and give comfort to each other. The Lord introduced us with our shared experiences, very beautiful.
James G. Violante
Parkertown, NJ
No comments:
Post a Comment