Despite having a soft spot for animals, U.S. Army service member Matthew Petersen said he rarely approached the stray dogs he observed while recently deployed in Kuwait.
But something about the dog he’d eventually name Turkey stood out to him as a invitation to make an exception.
“Dogs on the base, and even around the base, are super aggressive, and they usually travel in packs. But this dog was alone,” Petersen said, “and posed no threat to me. … He’s just a chill guy; that’s the best way to put it.”
Born and raised in Nipomo, the 24-year-old met Turkey during the final months of his six-year military commitment overseas.
Petersen recalled first spotting the stray—a Lab and Canaan dog mix—sometime in April while patrolling the Kuwait base where he was formerly stationed as a military police officer.
“Clearly, at the time that I found him, he wasn’t involved in one of the wild dog packs. He was all by himself on the base, which is very unusual,” Petersen said. “I gave him a couple snacks that I had in my patrol car, some water, and then let him go about his day.
“He ended up following my patrol car for about three hours, as I was doing my patrols around the base,” Petersen continued. “After a couple months of that, I was joking around, like: ‘Oh, you know what, I should probably just adopt him.’ And my supervisor was like: ‘Why don’t you?’”
Five months later, one of Petersen’s first road trips after returning home to the U.S. was from his current home in Paso Robles to a dog kennel in Inglewood—where Turkey was waiting for him.
Through his application for assistance to a global animal rescue, Petersen was able to adopt the 4-year-old dog he befriended—flown 7,000 miles from Kuwait to Los Angeles in September.
Turkey’s flight was made possible thanks to the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals International’s Patriot Pets program, which has helped facilitate this type of adoption overseas for military service members since 2008.
“He was, oh my goodness, that boy was so happy to see me,” Petersen said about his recent reunion with Turkey, who wagged his tail and lay down by Petersen’s feet upon seeing him.
‘At the time that I found him, he wasn’t involved in one of the wild dog packs. He was all by himself on the base, which is very unusual.’
—Matthew Petersen, U.S. Army service member
Over the past month since adjusting to his new home in Paso Robles, where it’s generally at least 40 degrees cooler than the desert weather he’d been used to, Turkey has been enjoying his new status as “an inside dog,” Petersen explained.
“He definitely doesn’t seem too bothered by the weather. But whenever I take him out late at night, I notice he doesn’t like staying outside too long,” Petersen said. “He’s more or less like an inside dog now, … contrary to where he grew up, living in 140 [degrees], looking for whatever food he could find—which was typically dead camels and trash that people would leave on the side of the road.”
Petersen described Turkey’s new favorite hobbies as joining him for drives around town, going on walks, and snacking on bully sticks.
Along with gaining a parent, Turkey gained a new sibling of sorts: Petersen’s cat, Miss Kitty.
Compared to a name like Turkey, Miss Kitty for a cat seems fairly self-explanatory. The reasoning behind Turkey’s name? “Nothing specific,” Petersen said with a laugh.
While spitballing names with a few of his fellow service members at the Kuwait base, one peer threw out Turkey as an option, “and it really just kind of stuck,” Petersen said.
Reflecting on some of his most recent observations of his canine companion, Petersen said he’s noticed one sign of what he called “puppy PTSD.”
Amid the United States’ ongoing war with Iran, hearing sirens to alert incoming missile and drone strikes was a regular occurrence at the Kuwait base, Petersen said—sounds he believes Turkey recalls whenever fire engines, ambulances, and other emergency vehicles whoosh past their Paso Robles home.
“He kind of freezes up a little bit, and then once it goes away, he’s fine,” Petersen said. “Honestly, I catch myself doing the same thing sometimes.”
For Petersen, the sound that brings him back to Kuwait more than anything is akin to that of a lawnmower motor, which he said reminds him of an enemy drone approaching.
“When the gardeners come and fire up their weed-whacker, it’s typically Mondays when I sleep in, … it’ll wake me up and I’m like, ‘Oh shit,’” he said before reenacting a sigh of relief, “‘I’m in my bed. I’m safe.’” ∆
Reach Sun Senior Staff Writer Caleb Wiseblood, from New Times’ sister paper, at cwiseblood@santamariasun.com.
This article appears in Pets 2026.
