There’s a Vietnam vet in a wheelchair with a Pitbull named Zeke I often see.
The guy is very handsome despite his careworn demeanor…blonde, blue-eyed, like an aging surfer sitting down.
You can tell he’s been through hell, his handicap probably the least of it.
Zeke, his name etched on his collar, also has scars. There’s one across his backside that looks like a knife wound where fur no longer grows, while one of his ears is practically missing from a dog fight no doubt.
He wears a knitted sweater with his name crocheted across the front in the winter, and a Lakers sweatshirt in spring. The love this man has for this animal would break your heart before lifting it to the stars.
The two of them have clearly seen hard times, yet together soar like eagles.
Zeke’s patience along with the way he gently protects could make him a spokesman for pits everywhere. He waits for his friend to lock or unlock his chair never pulling his lead while making certain, no one pushes or gets in front.
Think bodyguard with a tail.
He knows this man gave him another chance because believe me, he was not getting out alive otherwise. He would have either been killed in a dog fight, put down because he couldn’t fight any longer therefore reaping no income for the fucker arranging these heinous venues of evil entertainment, or the pound after a week, would have put him down since he was no Lassie in the looks department.
In other words, who would adopt him?
This fella, that’s who.
I don’t believe in accidents so when I see them know it’s to remind me to keep going no matter what, that life holds trials we must and will get through.
An animal can show you what humility is all about, and so can a veteran who went to fight a war because our government said he had to, and unlike many of his comrades who never made it home at all (58,310), came back, but not the way he bravely took flight. ![]()
Washington, DC, USA – March 25, 2016: Lone red carnation and American flag at Vietnam Veterans Memorial