A veteran and his service dog living better than par

Justin Madore swung his driver and hit the ball flush — PING!

His tee shot on No. 3 at Bluffton’s Hampton Hall Golf Club was straight — no slice, no hook.

But it started out left, and that’s where it ended, missing the fairway.

“I hit it straight,” Madore said Monday, his smile white underneath black Oakley sunglasses. “Just not where I aimed.”

He stepped off the tee box, tattooed legs carrying him toward a man holding Cody, Madore’s service dog. The 6-year-old Labradoodle watched as his owner took the leash and led him back toward the golf cart. Madore hopped in the passenger seat. Cody, in his service-dog vest — adorned with 101st Airborne Division and 10th Mountain Division patches — climbed in after his owner.

Madore, a Fort Mill resident, was one of 20 wounded military veterans who played in Monday’s Wounded Heroes Golf Classic, held at Hampton Hall and Belfair. The event, sponsored by the Lowcountry Foundation for Wounded Military Heroes, is in its sixth year, and organizers expect it to surpass the $185,000 it raised in 2015 for various PGA Tour-supported Birdies for the Brave nonprofit groups.

K9s For Warriors is one of those groups that will benefit from this year’s classic. Madore, a retired U.S. Army staff sergeant, is a graduate of the program. Cody, Madore says, saved his life. The dog helps his owner go out in public, enjoy a round of golf. Cody ensures Madore doesn’t socially isolate himself — and fall back into the “downward spiral” he was in four years ago.

As Madore and his playing partners worked their way around the course, he recounted his military service, including stints with the 101st in Iraq in 2003, and the 10th in Afghanistan in 2006. He was wounded during both deployments.

On his right wrist he wears a silver bracelet, stamped with the name of a friend who died in combat.

When he returned stateside, he brought with him nightmares and seizures. He’s had over a dozen surgeries, he says. At one point he was taking 43 prescribed pills a day, some for post-traumatic stress disorder.

In early 2012 he found himself isolated, unable to talk to his wife, unable to be a father to his children. His doctor told him something had to change. The doctor suggested he look into K9s For Warriors — which had just been founded in March 2011 — and consider a service dog.

“A service dog?” he remembers saying to the physician. “Never heard of a service dog for PTSD.”

The U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs estimates as many as 20 percent of Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation Enduring Freedom veterans have PTSD in a given year.

Shari Duval, president and founder of K9s For Warriors, based in Ponte Vedra Beach, Fla., saw one of her sons go to the Middle East and come back a changed man. Her son was a bomb-dog handler. When he returned home, the only time he was himself was when he was around dogs. Duval observed her son, whose experience inspired her to found K9s For Warriors.

Duval sat in Hampton Hall’s clubhouse Monday as the golfers moved along the course.

“There’s Cody out there on No. 18,” she said, gesturing to the dog and Madore as the pair neared the turn — they’d started the day on back nine.

Madore was her program’s 40th graduate — he finished in May 2012. The program now boasts 228 graduates, she said.

It pairs veterans with service dogs and teaches them how to work together. The dogs, Duval said, keep veterans who suffer with PTSD from isolating themselves. The animals give veterans something to focus on, she said, and they warn their owners when they feel their veterans are about to have a panic attack.

“Listen to your dog,” Duval said, explaining how she instructs veterans to trust their animals. A service dog like Cody, she said, will jump into your lap, lick your face — even bark at you — anything to get your attention and break your focus on whatever is triggering the panic attack.

When the dog alerts you, she said, it’s best to take the animal and excuse yourself, take a walk and collect yourself.

It may seem like a small thing, she said, but it’s the kind of support that can help a PTSD-afflicted veteran play a golf course without worrying there are snipers in the trees, or manage something as routine as a trip to the grocery store.

Before Madore was paired with Cody, he said “a 10-item trip to the grocery store would take 8 hours.”

Now he’s watching his daughter’s gymnastic routines, coaching his son’s football team.

As Madore walked off the No. 3 tee box, another tattoo was visible on his body, on the inside of his left forearm.

It sports a red, white and blue American flag.

And the silhouette of a man and his dog.

This story was originally published May 16, 2016 at 4:56 PM with the headline "A veteran and his service dog living better than par."