Reflections ~
What Butch Has Taught Me About Trauma
A Dogs Life is Not Always Easy! by Dolores Halbin, RN, BSN, contributing writer
For several years after my husband passed, I lived in my grandparents’ home, built in 1916, in the Ozark hills of Southwest Missouri. That’ s where Butch entered my life. Many of you have heard my Butch stories, and anyone who has seen me over the past ten years has met Mr. Butch White Paws. We are attached at the hip.
I moved in with four dogs and four cats. It didn’ t take long for the local barn cats to find my doggie door and make themselves at home. One occasional visitor, CatMan, famously came in to use the toilet. If I were sitting on it at the time, CatMan would knock me off. To CatMan’ s dismay, one visit coincided with my big sister’ s arrival. I said,“ Check this out!” showing her the cat peeing in the toilet. Her takeaway, gasp,“ He still has his balls.”
Skipping breakfast, we drove CatMan to Doc Wilson’ s. I had an opendoor policy for strays as long as I could assist with surgery. We pulled into the parking lot next to the Barry County Animal Control truck and noticed two dogs in a cage in the back. One I instantly named Butch was screaming, his paws bloody from trying to escape.
“ Too bad about that poor dog,” Doc said during surgery. I knew I was being baited as I helped tie the stitch on CatMan, who, by the way, never came to see me again. The second dog was a Border Collie pup.
“ I’ ll keep her. She’ ll be good with the cows,” Doc said.“ You’ ve got to be some kind of evil to get your dogs taken away around here. Hell, they don’ t take your kids if you beat‘ em.” I asked what would happen to Butch. Doc said he’ d fix him and send him to the pound on a ten-day paper. Meaning, Butch had ten days in a cage to get adopted or put down.
Of course, I took Butch home.
I immediately had to quit wearing belts. Whenever Butch saw a belt, he peed himself and ran under the bed. That was 2016, and my nurse friend Alice Mangan, who was my roadie buddy for town hall meetings during the 2016 campaign, had just discovered her CBD black paste, which led her to open her store, AliceCBD. I had half my family using the paste, so why not try it on the dog? Boy, it calmed my little dog down.
The vet estimated he was about nine months old when I got him, and over the next four years, Butch lived a carefree life on the farm with his pack. I eventually quit giving him the paste.
Then came COVID and a forced move. Before we could leave, Butch’ s best dog friend, Boey, was run over right in front of him. His seizures started after Boey died. I had access to hemp, so I made him dog treats, and they worked well. The place we moved to had open land to run and play, with a little lake, so he recovered pretty quickly.
When our level-one needs from Maslow’ s Hierarchy of Needs are disrupted, we can’ t do anything until we’ ve reestablished our safety net— housing, water, food. Unexpectedly, our landlord sold the property where our little country cottage sat and gave us 60 days to move, which happened in January and February.
Jim and Katie Thomas of Blue Key CBD with Fran Glaser, owner of Strike Axe Coffee & Tasting Room in Rosebud, MO.
My Canna tribe sponsored a GoFundMe to get a down payment on a camper, and Butch and I moved to the Bourbeuse River, heaven on earth for me. Not so for Butch. Day one, Butch was attacked and mauled by a group of river dogs, nearly tearing his ear off. We were next to the car, which ultimately saved him.
Now, Butch’ s safety net was gone, and his seizures were worsening. I used the Blue Key CBD chicken dog treats I got from my neighbor Katie Thomas. It took a few days, but I finally got Butch into the car, and we drove to a place by the river where we could hike. He
32 April 2026