For War Dogs, Life With PTSD Requires Patient Owners
Like their human counterparts, canines in the military rely on loving families to help them recover from trauma overseas

Larry Sargent with Buck, a retired IED-detecting dog, at his San Antonio home. (All photos and video by Catherine Cheney)
“Hey, Buck, look at what Mom got you,”said Lynette Sargent as she dangled then tossed a skunk stripped of itsstuffing. the dog, a chocolate lab, bolted throughthe backyard of the San Antonio, Texas, home where Lynette and her husband,Larry, live.
But minutes later, when the patio doorslammed shut, Buck froze, his back stiffening, his eyes widening, and his hairsstanding on end.
“We’re working on trying to get moreinformation to help him,” said Larry as he tried to calm his dog down. “In themeantime, we have just been trying to love him and let him play.”
Larry and Lynette, a couple in their 60s whohave owned several labs in the past, adopted Buck in July from nearby LacklandAir Force Base. they knew that at only four years old,Buck had been retired early from his service as a military working dog. Hecould no longer carry out his mission, they learned, because of a conditionreferred to as canine PTSD.
But what they never anticipated was justhow difficult it would be to help their dog heal.
Video: the Sargents talk about life with Buck
Dr. Walter F. Burghardt Jr., chief ofbehavioral medicine at the military working dog hospital on the Air Force base,spends hours every day evaluating animal behavior. He sits in front of hiscomputer and watches videos submitted by dog handlers from military basesacross the country and around the world.
“What we do now more and more is capturevideos of the animals and try to interpret them,” said Burghardt. “We look fortelltale signs in the dogs that they are distressed, that they are showingbehavioral changes consistent with what we call canine post-traumatic stressdisorder.”
“A lot of people don’t understand, these dogs have something wrong with them. Otherwise we would keep them working.”
In one clip, a handler holds a leash as aGerman shepherd takes the lead, leaping into the front seat, back seat, andtrunk of a car, searching and sniffing with his tail up and wagging. In thenext clip, taken later in the deployment, a handler leads that same Germanshepherd toward a vehicle, but this time the dog keeps his tail between hislegs and his ears back, leaning away from the space he is supposed tosearch.
The 650 Labrador retrievers, BelgianMalinois, and German Shepherds deployed overseas can be exposed to a wide rangeof traumatic events, from hearing loud blasts to losing their handlers. Thiscan cause changes in their behavior that may interfere with their work. that iswhere Burghardt comes in.
“My training in behavioralism is very much observational,”Burghardt said as he pointed out the visual signs of CPTSD, such as dogs”trying to escape or avoid noises, visual events, and settings” that had neverbothered them before.
The military first started to identify a”collection of behavioral problems all contributing to the fact that these dogswere not working as advertised” three years ago, explained Burghardt. It was not until a year and a half ago,he added, that these problems were labeled as CPTSD.
At the moment, Burghardt is what he calls”the army of one,” the only behaviorist employed by the DOD, but he said thatthe military is beginning to devote more resources to understanding dogbehavior as the extent of this disorder becomes clearer.
“It appears that at least five percent of the dogs that we’velooked at that are at risk in the last year have got some signs of CPTSD,” hesaid. “This is early data, and this is by reports from veterinarians on consultto me, so it may be an underrepresentation of the numbers.”
If Burghardt determines that a dog is nolonger able to perform its military mission, what comes next is decided justacross the parking lot, at the military working dog school.
“This room right here is the real cradle-to-grave nervecenter for the whole DOD canine program,” said Technical Sergeant Joseph Null (pictured right),who coordinates logistics for military working dogs.
Every year, Null and his team coordinateclose to 300 adoptions of dogs declared “excess” to the military either becausethey failed to make the cut in training, are ready to retire after serving fullcareers, or had their service cut short due to medical or behavioral problems.
Before dogs are approved for adoption,Null and his team review their training and veterinary records and conductbehavioral tests. These dogs are then sent to lawenforcement agencies, if they are young and able to work, or to adoptivefamilies, where the hope is that they can live and be treated as normal pets.
“The idea of this program is to give dogsthat have been working their whole lives the opportunity to be a pet, be acouch dog,” Null said, explaining that applications requesting dogs forpersonal security will go straight to the bottom of the pile. “A lot of peopledon’t understand, these dogs have spent their lives working, or they havesomething wrong with them, otherwise we would keep them working.”
The adoption application includesquestions and fill-in-the-blanks such as “Why are you interested in this dog?”and “I need a dog that will tolerate being alone for __ hours.”
Applicants must also initial theCandidate Agreement Section, confirming that they have received writtensummaries of health conditions, that they have been briefed on the trainingreceived by their dogs, and that they will build fences six feet or talleraround their yards.
“We give full disclosure on everythingthe dog is about before the potential adopter takes the dog. so if they decidethey want to back out at the last minute, that’s good,” Null said. “We’d ratheryou back out and say, ‘Hey I can’t handle this dog,’ than later be like, ‘Hey Ididn’t know the dog was going to be like this.’”
Null was able to go into the computersystem and look up Buck, as well as the identification code tattooed in hisear: P027.
“He was purchased as an IED detector dog for the Marine Corps. Hisjob was to go out and try and identify explosive devices,” Null said. “In thekennel environment, he was really withdrawn. if you were in a military uniformand were to walk into his kennel, he would walk away, curl into a ball, andlean against the fence.”
Null said the staff provides eachadoptive family with as many guidelines as possible on how to handle behavioralproblems, including CPTSD.
“In Buck’s case,” he added, “his adopterknew he had PTSD, that he had suffered from some kind of traumatic eventsomewhere.”
The Sargents face many of the samechallenges as any families who take in military working dogs.
These dogs grow up in kennels, so theyare not house trained. they are accustomed to concrete, not pillows and carpet,so they can do a lot of damage in their new homes. and a casual walk down theblock may seem more like a mission: the leash goes on and the dog is on duty.
But the Sargents also face other, more extreme challengeswith Buck because of his CPTSD.
Larry is a pastor, and he and Lynetteoften invite groups of people over to their home for conversation and prayer. but at the sound of the doorbell, Buckbegins to bark wildly. He pants, he spins in circles, and he shivers behind thebaby gates lining the kitchen. the only way Larry can calm Buck down is byputting his leash on him and allowing him to hide in his safe place: beneaththe chair where Larry sits, just behind his legs.
And the couple has had to put a halt ontravel plans, as Buck will not let anyone other than Lynette approach himunless he is on the leash and with Larry.
“It’s almost kind of like having a toddler, cause you have to watchhim and there’s no one else who can take care of him at this point,” Lynettesaid. “I’m glad we have him, but I wish we could getour lives back to normal.”
Burghardt said there is long list ofunanswered questions when it comes to CPTSD, including whether dogs are able tocompletely recover from the trauma they experienced.
This is partly because the DOD losestouch with what happens to military working dogs once the adoptions arefinalized and the waivers of liability are signed.
“I’ve certainly seen a number of dogsthat have had signs and have gotten better and have been able to work,” hesaid. “But with almost any behavioral problem, I think the objective isn’t tocure a problem, it’s to manage it, understanding that there are triggers to producebehaviors.”
For distressed dogs in deployedenvironments, he recommends everything from throwing them Frisbees to givingthem anti-anxiety and anti-depressant medications. ”It really depends on what the dog isdoing. It’s a case-by-case thing,” Burghardt said, “And typically there arerecommendations that are going to be in the medical record.”
But the information the Sargents receivedin Buck’s medical record does not answer their many questions about how to helptheir dog. ”We’re just figuring it out as we goalong. Nobody told us anything, and to us this is a big fault,” said Lynette,who had no idea that the authority on canine PTSD happened to live in SanAntonio.
“I want a younger dog to play with him, and I would like toknow from a doctor if that socialization process would help him to calm down,”Larry said, adding that he is desperate to find information that will help Buckso that “he doesn’t have to spend the rest of his life on a leash.”
“I would like to see other guys likehim that need to be adopted and be provided homes,” Larry said, explaining thatit “breaks his heart” to see dogs so scarred by their past experiences. “But inorder for them to be adopted, there’s got to be more information and moreservices available to people so they can take these guys and love them.”
