TOWNSEND — Until Charlie Parker came in to see him, Huss had been waiting in the Lewis and Clark Humane Society for a new home for nearly a year.

But once Parker met the 2½-year-old blue heeler cross who is missing one leg, there was an immediate bond. He knew he’d be bringing that dog home.

When the women at the humane society desk asked Parker why he was so interested in this dog that everyone else had passed over, he had a quick answer.

You see, Parker understands a little bit about rejection and loss himself.

Parker, who lost a leg in the Vietnam War 38 years ago, unzipped his pant leg and showed the shelter workers his prosthetic leg.

“I told them, I can relate to him, because I can understand the fears,” Parker said.

Three weeks later, on July 18, the 59-year-old Parker and his wife, Mary, brought Huss back to their Townsend-area home.

Charlie Parker’s war

On Dec. 31, 1970, a land mine literally blew Parker’s right leg off at the knee. He had a broken neck, and his back was broken in four places. Both his shoulders needed to be rebuilt, and the blast had ripped a gaping wound in his stomach.

None of the 20 men in his unit survived that day with all four of his limbs.

Parker was in such bad shape, medics initially thought he was dead.

“I spent 18 months and had 39 surgeries, putting me back together,” he said.

Parker still had a long road ahead of him after that 18 months. His ordeal had left him a shell of his former self.

Where once there was a powerfully built 210-pound warrior, there was now little more than a skeleton. Parker was down to 105 pounds, half his normal weight. When his parents came to visit him at Fort Gordon, Ga., they walked right past his bed. They didn’t recognize him.

The emotional wounds ran just as deep.

Parker said he was one of 37 men recuperating from their wounds at Fort Gordon. Of those, five would take their own lives before they could be released. Each time, Parker said, a letter from the soldier’s wife or girlfriend was found saying she didn’t want to be with half a man.

“To say the least it highly agitated the rest of us on the ward,” he said.

Parker said seeing how people reacted to him and his wounded comrades — even the people they thought loved them the most — opened his eyes to a side of humanity he hadn’t known before.

Since that time, he said, he’s had difficulty relating to and trusting other people.

Working with animals was his saving grace.

“When I got back to Miami, nobody wanted me around,” he said. “I was too violent. I’d been in Vietnam four years. I didn’t have too many normal emotions left.”

But even when he couldn’t relate to people, he could deal with animals.

Parker always had been around dogs. After recovering from his injuries he started working at a racehorse farm that specialized in rehabilitating horses with leg injuries.

“The animals are therapeutic to me, because I take on their pain,” he said. “I quit thinking about how bad my body hurts.”

Nowadays, Parker volunteers at the VA hospital helping disabled veterans returning from Iraq and Afghanistan. He helps them navigate the mountains of paperwork they need to fill out to get benefits. When they’re denied, he helps them with appeals, which sometimes takes more than a dozen tries.

He also offers this advice to those suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder as he did — adopt an animal. Once a dog accepts you, he says, its loyalty will be yours forever. And no matter what you’re going through, a pet will always lend a sympathetic ear.

“You need to talk to someone,” Charlie said he tells them. “They don’t have to talk back.”

Meeting Huss

Mary had been watching Huss, who had been featured as the Humane Society’s pet of the week in the Independent Record, on the shelter’s Web site for some time.

She fell in love with him from the picture and the description, but she was reluctant to suggest that Charlie adopt him, because he once told her he never wanted a dog with an amputated leg — he didn’t want to put one through what he had been through.

One day, the couple went to the shelter to adopt a few cats. She asked if Huss was still there and was shocked to learn no one had adopted him yet. That’s when Mary told Charlie about Huss for the first time.

Huss was a little shy from having lived in a kennel for so long, growling and barking some at first.

But when Charlie sat down to show him he wasn’t a threat, Huss calmed down. After a short time, he allowed Charlie and Mary to pet him and became affectionate with them.

Charlie and Mary had two other dogs at home — a 10½-year-old Australian kelty and a 3½-year-old long-haired German shepherd, and the shelter personnel wanted them to bring the dogs in to make sure they would all get along with each other.

“Once we got him outside of the kennel into the yard, he was a totally different dog,” Charlie said. “Loving, affectionate, wasn’t growling at us. He would nuzzle up to us. He loves affection.”

Christine Stipich, the shelter manager, said everyone at the Humane Society had grown attached to Huss, and it was a bittersweet day when he went home with the Parkers.

“It was sad to see him go, but it was a good sadness,” Stipich said. “Huss finally got a chance to be in a home and have a family.”

Huss is Mary’s dog. Charlie thinks he must have had bad experiences with a man that makes him favor women.

But other than the obvious missing leg, there’s little to indicate there’s anything wrong with Huss.

He runs and plays with the other dogs — Charlie says Huss can outrun both. Huss is best buddies with the German shepherd, Kodi. Even though Kodi outweighs Huss by more than 50 pounds, Huss confidently tussles and plays with her. Kodi sometimes even lies down and gives Huss a chance to be the dominant dog.

Just like with his owner, there is still a bit of uncertainty about new people below the surface.

But this once frightened animal who would bark and growl at people who came to see him now quickly warms up, even to a new visitor he’s never seen before.

To learn more about the Lewis and Clark Humane Society and the animals up for adoption there, click here.

Features editor Joe Menden: 447-4087 or joe.menden@helenair.com