Tales from the Bark Side

By Keith Ross | The Daily Journal

Published Saturday, October 13, 2007

Welcome back to the bark side of life where the sun sets earlier each day and the morning rise of that flaming spheroid seems to be later and later.

This time of year marks the period of transition, fall sliding precariously into winter.

This time of year brings forth another memory from 40 years ago, this Halloween to be exact. Here is part one of a tale that I’d like to tell. The times, dates and names of the people mentioned in this tale are 100 percent accurate. This, my friends, is a true story.

A Halloween to remember

The summer of 1967 was dubbed as the “magical summer” back in California. Long-haired “hippies” and “flower children” surged through the streets of San Francisco like a psychedelic river whose banks had overflowed with color.

I left for Vietnam June 1, leaving the tumultuous throng behind. After acquiring “Thunder” three months later in Saigon, I walked a post with him at Long Binh ammo dump.

Those of you who have dogs are surely familiar with heartworm medicine being a major part of your dog's health regimen. The microfilaria mosquito lays eggs in the canine's drinking water thus infecting the poor animal by being virtually undetected by the human eye.

Blood must be drawn regularly to be able to identify this deadly culprit.

Thunder tested positive for this thread-like worm that literally takes over the heart and lungs of the unsuspecting dog, eventually rendering it impossible to breathe. It's a slow and painful death.

It was this condition that brought Thunder and me back to Saigon, and it was late October when the daily treatments of an arsenic compound were almost over and we were ready to return to active duty. John Campbell and Charlie Davis were two handlers whose dogs were similarly infected and were also close to being released from veterinary care.

The three of us hung around together and that meant going to downtown Saigon together and having more than a few adult beverages, which we did on that eventful evening — Halloween 1967.

Curfew was 2200 hours (10 p.m.) It could have been 2100 hours but I remember arriving back at our camp somewhere around 10 p.m. We didn't drive back from downtown Saigon, because only the company driver could transport us in a military vehicle.

We were transported by a Lambretta, which is like a combination motorized Rickshaw and a John Deere Gator utility vehicle, whose driver seemed to have a death wish by the way he drove through the city streets.

Somehow we made it back relatively unscathed and we were fast asleep within minutes.

In the heart of Saigon, a very prominent building stands — Ky's Palace (the Premier of Vietnam at the time). Behind these fences standing raptly at attention are mannequin-faced guards.

Suddenly a blinding flash of light in the immediate vicinity of Ky's Palace and it was torn asunder with a blast of monumental proportions.

The impregnable fortress was violently violated with a rocket blast. Three slightly inebriated dog handlers slept on.

Next week, we will have a conclusion to this tale, and the results of the “best critter tales” contest. If we are to judge accurately and fairly, we must take our time in the decision process. Please bear with me on this.

You can email me at info@rosswoodkennels.com or write to me at Keith Ross, Richville, MN 56576 or phone me at 218-495-2195.

Keith Alan Ross writes from his New York Mills home.

Keith Alan Ross writes from his New York Mills home.