Appreciating From Afar

I have a relative who fought in World War I. His name was Milford Palmer.

Milford was Corporal First Class. He had the distinction of being the most successful foxhole hunter. He wasn’t stealthy or Ramboesque. He would simple approach a German foxhole and say, “Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt your fighting, but my name is Milford Palmer, but I’m looking for my dog Laslo. I’m worried silly about him. He’s a Albercian Dachshund. I was wondering if you might have seen the likes of his kind?”

Everyone softens up when they see or hear about a dog. The enemies fighting nature evaporated with canine concern. Often the German’s would offer to look for the dog with Milford. Milford would lead the search party to the Allies side and the Germans would be captured with little or no fuss.

Interestingly, Milford never owned a dog in his life. He lived to 94. I like dogs but have never owned and lived with one. I think I must have gotten some of Milford’s genes.

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