A look back. A few times a year we trek out to see a special group of homeless veterans. But calling them homeless is not the right word. They simply live outdoors. A lifestyle they have chosen. They could live in the city, in housing, but they don’t feel comfortable doing that. So they do it this way instead.

These are fiercely proud men. Yet they are friendly, kind and respectful. With faces that show lives well lived. Crooked smiles. Some missing teeth. And as one of them added, some really bad tattoos.

All of them kind of chuckle in unison at the memory of bad tattoos.

But their dogs show none of that wear and tear. Three pit bulls. Happy. Wiggly. Waggly. Totally blissful dogs. Each one spayed and neutered. And licensed.

These dogs adore their people. And vice versa.

On the hottest days they wear clean tshirts to protect from sunburn. On the coldest days they have warm coats. The dogs. Not the people.

Watching them says it all. While we talk, unused hands automatically reach down to scratch a dog’s head. Then the neck. Then the dog moves himself into a position so those hands now scratch his back. Then his side. Leaning in further with every scratch.

The whole time the man almost unknowingly bending further and further to pet his dog. And the dog loving it. We ask if he knows he’s petting his dog. He was startled by the question. He quickly looked down and saw the dog. He looked at him. The dog looked back. A frozen moment that had likely happened thousands of times before.

Then you look down and see the dog has quietly moved himself into a bit of a half-somersault. Just trying to make sure every bit of his happy body continues to get equal attention. Face down. Rump up.

And then, with an almost upside down mouth hanging open and tongue dangling sideways, it happens. The dog goes kathump. Now down on his side. Motionless. Then a quick roll to his back. Arms and legs up in the air. And there he waits. For the belly scratches that this man has given so many times before.

The man laughs. The dog smiles. Then the other men join in and give belly rubs to their dogs too. Perfect.

These were dogs that may not have had a chance without these men. And these were men that may not have had a chance without these dogs. In many ways, therapy for each other.

Yes. These men and dogs live outdoors. Some may call them homeless. But without question they still share a home filled with love. And isn’t that what it’s all about?

Three more Vietnam era veterans. Tired of life as it was so they have carved out the life they want. This life is not for everyone. But who are we to tell these men that their way is the wrong way? Because from what we’ve seen, they’re doing an awfully good job of doing it right.

This Memorial Day weekend gives us pause to once again thank our Veterans. This is not about war. This is about the job they did when they were told what to do. Even if it was a job they did not want to do. But they served. And we owe them our debt of gratitude for that.

Tragically there are countless Veterans, many right here in our own community, who still endure the toughest times. And The Pongo Fund does all we can to help them and their pets through our partnerships with the Department of Human Services, the Veterans Administration, Portland’s VA Community Resource and Referral Center and more.

It’s not a perfect solution. But these proud men and women don’t ask for perfect. That’s the point, they’re not asking for anything. Veterans are far too proud for that. But they were there for us so let us remember to be there for them. And at the very least, please let them know they are not forgotten.

Memorial Day is about more than just barbeques and beer. It’s about Respect and Remembering. About giving thanks to those who have given their all. Both two-legged and four.

The Pongo Fund helps Veterans near and far by helping their dogs and cats too.

We honor. We remember.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org