Some of you may recall that I recently befriended a local homeless man named Trevor, (read story here) also known as Buck. The local businesses call him “Hobo Cop” because he keeps order among the other homeless in the Wedgewood area of Fort Worth. He doesn’t allow drug use, littering, or aggressive behavior near the businesses where he stays.
The other day, after taking him to Omaha Surplus to gear up with essentials like gloves, a headlamp, a shemagh, socks, a USGI canteen & cup, I brought him to my house for a shower while Lisa washed his clothes. While spending time together, he mentioned that he would love to have a dog for companionship and security.
That night, my family was visiting a friend—a Fort Worth police officer and former USMC military policeman. While sitting around the campfire making s’mores with the kids, a young dog, about six months old, wandered up. He looked like a mix of Boxer, Pitbull, and maybe even Chihuahua. I immediately felt a connection with him, something I haven’t experienced since the day I met my Odin.
He had no collar or tags but wasn’t dirty. He was calm, didn’t jump on or chase the kids, didn’t beg for food, and didn’t react to my friend’s barking dog through the fence. He just hung around all night. Fort Worth—and Texas in general—has a massive stray dog problem, which is hard to wrap your head around.
Lisa won’t let me add to our pack of five until we get a farmette with land (I tried!). The next day, we were back at my buddy Matt’s house for his daughter Penny’s birthday. I asked where the dog was, and they said he hadn’t been around—until suddenly, he strolled up, completely unfazed by 10 crazy kids running around. He laid down in the shade under a tailgate, calmly watching everything unfold. Even when the garbageman and postman arrived, he didn’t react.
I called Buck and jokingly said, “Hey, are you home? Oh, that’s right—you’re not, because you’re homeless.” We’ve built a relationship where he knows me well enough to laugh at that. Then, I sent him a picture of the dog and asked if he wanted him. He immediately said yes.
When we left, we took the dog with us. He was calm as could be in the vehicle—except for letting loose a few farts that could peel paint off the walls. We found Buck, and they met for the first time. We gave him a set of Immediate Correction and Traffic Leads, and they set off together.
Later that day, Frank met up with Buck to bring him some dog food and a collapsible water bowl. On Monday, I called around for pricing on shots. I offered to cover the cost, but Buck insisted—he said Struggle was his dog, and he would take care of him. True to his word, he raised the $100 needed for the vet visit and vaccinations.
Struggle is now somewhat of a local celebrity, enjoying multiple pup cups from Starbucks daily. Buck told me that donations have gone up significantly—one man even handed him $50 unsolicited. Buck qualifies for a service dog, and Struggle is officially in training. The hardest part—public access training—is already going incredibly well.
Since getting Struggle, Buck has even reconnected with his mother, who had been estranged. She recently lost her Great Dane, so when Buck asked her to take Struggle for his shots, they bonded over the dog, and their relationship is healing.
Because I initially focused more on how to use the Immediate Correction & Traffic Lead rather than explaining its purpose, Buck’s mom bought Struggle a standard leash and harness. That night, Struggle slipped out of the ill-fitting harness and got away. During that time, some young men Buck described as “frat boys” mocked and harassed him. He was terribly upset when he called me after getting Struggle back.
I reminded him that his decisions now have to be made with Struggle’s well-being in mind. If anything happens to Buck, the responsibility for Struggle falls on me—and since Lisa has put a firm cap on our pack, that’s not an option. Buck nodded, smiled, and agreed.
He saw Odin’s vest covered in morale patches and wanted one for Struggle, so we’re working on that. I already have “Service Dog in Training” patches for him. Struggle is incredibly well-socialized from his time on the streets—just like Buck. The two of them are quite a sight, and they bring tears to my eyes. They naturally roam the streets as a pack with Buck in the lead looking for resources and avoiding threats.
Seeing a dog so loved and so well-led is rare, even among owners with homes and unlimited resources. The two roam together all day, though Buck tells me Struggle isn’t much of an early riser—after his morning potty break at 4:30 AM, he crawls right back into their sleeping bag.
It is hard for me to put into words the impact that Buck and Struggle have had on my family in a very short period of time.
Here are some pictures of the dastardly duo.
