My dad, James Ladd Houlihan, was not the greatest dad in the world. He was abusive and alcoholic, but he was very intelligent and I tried to love him and I hope I learned from him.My dad was drafted and served in the Army Air Corps in World War II. He was shot down over Germany and spent 10 months in a POW camp. He rarely spoke of his experiences there, but when he did, we learned of horrible conditions, sickness, and friends around him dying. There was very little to eat, and what they did have sickened him. It was mostly a stew made with dog meat.
They were on a forced march when they were liberated. He came back to the states weighing just over 100 pounds, and spent several months in the hospital getting his strength back. When he returned home to Buffalo, he married my mom, began a family, built a house, and got a dog.
I was the fifth of five children. When I was born, the family dog was an Irish Setter named "Edie". Mom always claimed I was named after my Great Grandmother, Edith Ladd, but I know better. I'm proud to have been named after the family dog.
Dogs were always well-treated in our house. In fact, they always had their own chair that no one else was allowed to sit on. I think while he was a POW he befriended dogs in the camp, then watched them disappear. I imagine he felt almost like a cannibal having to eat the meals that were probably composed of his friends, the dogs in the POW camp.
One thing I know I learned from Dad is love and respect for dogs. He is probably smiling as he watches me rescuing and fostering puppies, driving transport, and now training dogs.
A few years ago I applied for and received his POW medal. Today I hold that medal and reflect on his service to our country, the price he paid both physically and emotionally, and mostly I think about his love for dogs. I hope I have made him proud in carrying on that love.
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