Until Tuesday: A Wounded Warrior and the Golden Retriever Who Saved Him (2011), by US veteran Captain Luis Carlos Montalván and bestselling writer Bret Witter, blends memoir and military history to share the story of a service dog’s role in the welfare of one returning US veteran. The work became a
New York Times bestseller and raised awareness of the need for service dogs for those experiencing PTSD.
The book's themes include negotiating post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD); disability rights; resilience; and veteran’s rights. The narrative is told in the first person from Luis’s perspective.
In the preamble, Luis discusses his life in upper Manhattan (112th Street) with Tuesday, an 80-pound golden retriever who attracts everyone’s attention. It helps that Tuesday has a lively personality: he’s the sort of dog who likes to have fun but doesn’t drool everywhere. Luis describes Tuesday as a “leaner” dog, one who welcomes attention and is happy to provide affection to others; he’s the sort of creature who will lean on you. Luis adopted Tuesday when the latter was two years old.
Luis describes his tall frame, and how he was known as “the terminator” in the U.S. Army, because of his imposing physical appearance. Though strangers may agree he looks powerful, it doesn’t take them long to note the cane he’s forced to lean on. If they were to talk to him a little more, they might also come to know the considerable psychological wounds he suffered as a solider in Iraq and Afghanistan, where his experiences included seeing murdered children and people blow up right in front of him. The people who find Tuesday to be an adorable dog rarely realize that he is a physical and emotional service dog for Luis.
Part I, Tuesday, follows the genesis of the loveable dog who would help Luis stave off a reliance on alcohol and re-enter civil society in New York State. Despite his name, Tuesday was born on a Sunday; his name actually comes from Norse mythology. As Luis didn’t know Tuesday as a puppy, he imagines what his initial days must have been like training to be an elite service dog.
Tuesday trained with the organization “Puppies Behind Bars.” Despite the ominous sounding name, the organization is benign in intent: it pairs helper-dogs with recently released prisoners to encourage their re-entry into society. Luis imagines how emotionally tough it must have been for Tuesday to have bonded with a prisoner, only to be separated from him when the prisoner was transferred.
The program expanded to include military veterans in 2008. Louis heard about the organization through East Coast Assistance Dogs (ECAD). After discussing his situation with a therapist, Luis then was assigned to Tuesday. After a few weeks of training together, the two are judged to be a good fit, and Luis takes Tuesday home.
Part II, Luis, is about the author, Luis Carlos Montalván’s, childhood, service in Iraq, the injuries he sustained during his military service, and his botched reintegration into civil society after witnessing the horrors of war.
As a captain, Luis was daily frustrated with the limited support American troops received from the US public and the US government. To fight effectively and remain alive, his unit required additional soldiers, well-functioning equipment, and a greater sense of morale.
During the raid of an enemy house in Iraq, Luis suffers a traumatic brain injury and nearly dies. His legs are also gravely injured; in early 2016, Luis would have to have one amputated. However, his brain injury is not immediately diagnosed, nor is the severity of the injury to his legs known, and he continues to serve in the Army.
Only after years in Iraq, frustrated with a lack of organization, pointless management tactics, and flat out lies from higher officials, does Luis decides to leave the military. He is honorably discharged and returns to the state of New York.
Life as a civilian is unexpectedly difficult for him. To his dismay, many of the people he passes don’t believe he’s physically or psychologically damaged by the war. Even his parents express some cynicism about his claim of constant physical pain, especially in his legs. Most people seem to believe that his injuries aren’t substantial enough to warrant a service dog.
Until Tuesday came along, Luis was also socially anxious all the time. Unless he drank a lot of rum, he would be too panicked to be comfortable around other people and function as he wished. Being in public during a lunch rush would paralyze him; somedays he couldn’t get out of bed at the thought of having to use public transportation.
The final section is called “Tuesday and Luis.” It is about their life together. Every day, Tuesday helps Luis climb stairs and, being a good conversation starter, make friends. Tuesday enables Luis to be a better person; consequently, he recommits himself to helping others. Tuesday can go anywhere with Luis, including restaurants, retail stores, and any public transportation facility. Two years have passed in this way, and Tuesday is four years old when the book concludes.
Luis describes their typical day together: Luis will keep Tuesday clean with the sort of rigor he once applied to his personal items in the military. The book closes with a look at their typical nightly schedule: the two of them venture out to the park, and Luis will throw tennis balls for Tuesday to fetch.