Of Local Lore and Lawyers

OF LOCAL LORE AND LAWYERS By: Joe Jarret

Attorney, University of Tennessee

FOR THE LOVE OF OTTO

“Dogs do speak, but only to those who know how to listen.”

– Orhan Pamuk

As Veterans Day approaches, I thought I’d share a bit of the lighter side of military life. I first met Mike during my first deployment to Germany, compliments of the United States Army. Mike was an Army attorney with the Judge Advocate General Corps, and I was an armored cavalry officer. We were stationed along the border that separated communist East Germany from West Germany. 1 Mike was the kind of guy who would actually volunteer to go on patrol with my troops and me, suffering the same dangers, inhospitable weather, lack of sleep, and hot food. We both loved Germany, its people and its culture, and he was one of my inspirations to eventually attend law school.

After my tour in Germany was over, it was back to Ft. Knox, Kentucky, for advanced training. You can imagine my delight when one day while walking across post, I espied Mike about to get into a car. I ran up to him, and we engaged in the usual handshaking and back-slapping comrades in arms put one another through after not seeing one another for a couple of years. This was the era before email, the internet, and social media, so keeping up with your friends was no mean feat. After we caught each other up, Mike announced that he was “off to get a dog.” He was going to the local animal shelter to adopt a pup, and I decided to tag along.

When we arrived at the shelter, we were greeted by three very eager and cheerful young women, who, in unison, asked, “May we help you?” Mike, not one to stand on ceremony, asked in his usual direct manner, “Who is your biggest, most unadoptable dog?” Without hesitation and once again speaking in unison, the women emphatically replied, “Otto!” “Take me to him,” Mike ordered. When we reached Otto’s kennel, Mike and I immediately knew that the large black and brown dog sitting there was a Rottweiler, a breed with which we both became familiar while stationed in Germany. Mike opened the kennel, knelt and said, in a gentle voice, “Hey boy. Come here, boy.” No response. One of the women spoke up and said, “He’s been like that since he’s been here. He won’t eat; he hardly drinks his water; he just sits there with his head down. We know he’s sweet, but he’s just so sad.” “What’s his story?” Mike asked. The spokesperson continued. “His owner had to go to a nursing home, so his daughter surrendered Otto to us. She told us her dad used to be a high school German teacher and was a widower, so he and Otto lived alone.”

Mike then turned to me with the same glint I’d seen in his eyes on the eve of a trial and said, “I wonder?” He again bent down and this time said to the forlorn pup, “Hier kommen Otto!” It was as if the proverbial switch had been thrown. Otto exploded from the back of the kennel and barreled into Mike, knocking him over. He then began barking, whimpering, and lavishly licking Mike’s face. Mike then turned to the gawking shelter workers (I was doing a bit of gawking myself) and commanded, “Get him something to eat.” They immediately complied and returned with a large bowl of dog chow. Mike knelt down, stroked Otto’s massive head, placed the bowl in front of him and said, “Bitte essen Sie etwas Otto” (please eat something), and eat he did. This accomplishment caused all three of our hosts to burst into tears and me to get a little misty-eyed. After Otto devoured his dinner, Mike announced he was taking Otto home. And that was that. Immediately, the two of them became inseparable. So began what Mike describes to this day as a “Nine-year love affair.” 2 When Mike and I first reconnected, he mentioned that he was dating a woman in the Army Medical Corps and that he was looking forward to the three of us having dinner sometime. I had to leave for a training exercise in another state, and upon my return two months later, I asked Mike when I was going to meet his lady friend. “We broke up” he said, matter-of-factly. “Wow,” I responded, “What happened?” “She didn’t like Otto,” came the reply. And that was that. A year after adopting Otto, Mike was offered a career-making assignment in South Korea. When he learned he couldn’t bring Otto, he resigned his commission, returned to his native Michigan, and began practicing municipal law. Several years later, he called and announced that he was getting married. “What’s she like?” I asked. “She loves Otto,” he said. And that was that!

1 In 1990, Germany once again became a unified country, and the border between East and West was removed, thus creating one unified German state. 2 Otto was loved for the next nine years of his life. He died, peacefully in his sleep at age 12, with Mike at his side.