LACKLAND
AIR FORCE BASE, Texas — Not long after a Belgian Malinois named Cora went off
to war, she earned a reputation for sniffing out the buried bombs that were the
enemy's weapon of choice to kill or maim U.S. troops.
Cora
could roam a hundred yards or more off her leash, detect an explosive and then
lie down gently to signal danger. All she asked in return was a kind word or a
biscuit, maybe a play session with a chew toy once the squad made it back to
base.
"Cora
always thought everything was a big game," said Air Force Tech. Sgt. Garry
Laub, who trained Cora before she deployed. "She knew her job. She was a
very squared-away dog."
But
after months in Iraq and
dozens of combat patrols, Cora changed. The transformation was not the result
of one traumatic moment, but possibly the accumulation of stress and
uncertainty brought on by the sharp sounds, high emotion and ever-present death
in a war zone.
Cora
— deemed a "push-button" dog, one without much need for supervision —
became reluctant to leave her handler's side. Loud noises startled her. The
once amiable Cora growled frequently and picked fights with other military
working dogs.
When
Cora returned to the U.S. two years ago, there was not a term for the condition
that had undercut her combat effectiveness and shattered her nerves. Now there
is: canine post-traumatic stress disorder.
"Dogs
experience combat just like humans," said Marine Staff Sgt. Thomas
Gehring, a dog handler assigned to the canine training facility at Lackland Air
Force Base, who works with Cora daily.
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