At the age of 18, Mischka slept into eternity last night, passing on the bed beside my desk she had graced daily for three years. She was surrendered to rescue at the age of fifteen, when her people were sent to Hawaii. Marine families do not pick their stations. Their tour was extended when her Gunnery Sgt dad was deployed to Afghanistan. Mischka tolerated fools poorly and settled disputes with a sharp bark and punitive bite. A Marine's dog should be good at discipline. Somewhere this morning, she will find her family and surprise them by clinking her tags against her food bowl and sliding her muzzle into their hands. Good bye, Mischka. Semper Fi