Sometimes cranky people are cranky only because they hurt. Sore neck, aching back, bum hip, bad knee, impacted tooth, infected ear, broken dentures, sinus infection. Even just a mild headache that has ached for days and still aches because a small bottle of ibuprofen is $3.00 more than they currently have in their pocket.

Paul is that sort of cranky person. He’s new to Portland, a United States Veteran, and he carries some wounds with him. Wounds that he carries both inside and out. Paul has a service dog named Henry and Henry needed food. Paul did too, but he told his caseworker that he was more concerned about Henry. So Paul’s caseworker called The Pongo Fund because we had been added to a list of resources exactly for times like this.

Paul’s caseworker said the Resource List is their Bible, the place they turn for help in solving the problems they don’t always know how to solve otherwise. Helping disabled veterans feed their dogs is one of those problems. But just because a name is on the Resource List doesn’t mean it will always be the right resource. But in this case there were five stars ***** next to the words “Pongo Fund.” And the caseworker said that when you’re helping Military Veterans and you see five stars, you know that’s going to be a great resource.

We got the information we needed to dispatch our Emergency Kibble Response Team. With one last warning from the caseworker. He said Paul was pretty much cranky all of the time. He just wanted us to know that.

We met Paul and Paul was cranky. But then Henry jumped up on his lap, licked his face and Paul giggled like Cindy Brady. A proud man. A proud man in pain. Pain that came from serving our Country. And deeply embarrassed that he needed our help. But Henry was not embarrassed.

We think Henry’s primary role as a service dog was to lick Paul’s face and turn his frown into a smile. Because that’s what we saw. And Henry did it so well that we knew he was well practiced at it.

There were many questions we wanted to ask, many conversations we wanted to have. But our job was to deliver the food and get on our way. To let Paul and Henry get back to their day. So we said our goodbyes and exited.

A few days later there was a note waiting for us at The Pongo Fund. It was just three words, a simple thank you from Paul. How he managed to carry himself with all his hurts to our door to leave us a note is something we’ll never know. But he did. And this is why we Pongo.