You shouldn’t trust Judge Brannon, his magistrate, or the Dayton VA psychiatrists with a dog

There’s an expression that’s popped up a few times lately that I like: “Competency Porn.”

refers to media, like movies or TV shows, that features characters who are exceptionally skilled and competent at their jobs or tasks, often displaying impressive knowledge, abilities, and problem-solving skills. It’s the pleasure derived from watching someone perform complex tasks with great aptitude and mastery.

I first saw it attached to “The Pitt ^[1]” on Max- where you watch an ER day, in real-time, go through crisis after crisis. It was so inspiring to watch that a friend who wants to be a nurse and never considered working in an ER, now wants to be an ER Nurse. I also saw it in a NYTimes article about the 100 greatest movies- and they used the term to describe “The Hurt Locker ^[2],” a movie about Explosive Ordinance Disposal units in the gulf war.

This post is about incompetence. All kinds. And, the plight of an innocent German Shepherd, who I’ve loved since he was a puppy. If you are going to feel sorry for anyone, it’s him. He’s the only one who truly did nothing to deserve his fate.

This story is the continuing saga of a mentally ill veteran. In February of 2016 I agreed to become his Power of Attorney, without any clue of what that meant. He was locked up at the Summit Psychiatric Hospital in Cincinnati ^[3]. He was homeless, phone less, car less, and I had known him as the guy who delivered pizzas to me, and as a very talented hockey player.

I’ve told parts of this story on this site before. It’s not really hard to find the pieces and put the names together, but, this isn’t about him. He’s the second most innocent person in the story, he’s just severely mentally ill, has no self-control and has substance abuse problems and an older brother who is toxic and just as mentally ill.

The veteran had been lied to for 20 years that he wasn’t eligible for VA benefits because he was “on training status” for his military duty. He had been a rising senior at a military academy when he had his first mental break and discharge. He had honorably served for 3 years, and was fully entitled to both care and benefits, but the system had failed him. I, along with the help of former Ohio Representative Jim Butler, did not. It took a few years, but I got him rated at 70% disabled and then up to 100% shortly after. I got him several years of back pay, amounting to a sizeable sum of money. I got his Social Security disability back, I got him a car, a phone, a place to live. I asked for assistance from every organization I knew- some came though big, others small. I will forever thank the Blue Star Mothers of the Miami Valley ^[4]– and he later paid them back the money they donated without so much as asking for him to fill out a form, to help get him housing.

There is no handbook on how to do all this. All the learning is OJT. And some of it is painful. Here is a long post from July 6 of 2017: Mental health care gets a pink slip in Dayton ^[5]

After that disaster of a 4th of July weekend, it became apparent things had to change. I needed to step up my game, and be able to more closely monitor him. So, I bought him a house right around the corner. And things were good for a while, until, they weren’t. In August of 2019, I was sitting in a conference room off 7S at the VA (strangely, MVH’s mental ward is also 7S) with a doctor, a nurse manager and a social worker discussing options.

I was told, we don’t have the kinds of options that he needs- we have short term locked wards like 7s, or we have Summit, which is the equivalent of “institutionalization” – lock him up and throw away the key. The VA at some point contracted out to Eastway to have a social worker check in with him for 10 minutes a day, 5 days a week, costing I don’t know how much, that was part of their Mental Health Intensive Case Management program (MHICM) which didn’t do much for very long. What he really needed was supervision of his meds, making sure he took them 2x a day. And meds he had galore. Usually between 14 and 17 different medications. The daily pill count was insane. I agreed to start doing it. The doc agreed that we could work together, and when he was seeming off, he could try to get him in and out of the psych ward in a few days instead of a dozen.

The plan was working. But, about every 18-24 months we’d have a major break. Usually involving alcohol, then destruction of something, and then a bunch of police officers holding him down until a Fire Department medic comes to sedate him and take him back to the VA, where the process begins again.

I did this for 6 years for free, with just a durable and medical POA, before the VA made “aid and attending” part of the package and I became his fiduciary as well. I had been paying his bills, buying him cars and homes, and paying an incredible woman who is a Gold Star Mother, to clean his home on a regular basis. I hooked up his technology, I took him shopping at Costco, and over time, I grew to love the guy- someone who was almost my polar opposite except for our service to our country- and our love of hockey. We shared many meals, together, or with his son and step-son. We went on trips together to his military academy high school. And I saw him at least twice a day, like clockwork to give him his meds.

He started volunteering with a non-profit, “Food for the Journey Project ^[6]” working part time 3 days a week. I got him working out with a personal trainer who lives in the neighborhood. We made it through Covid. When another home became available on the other side of the block, which had a yard and a garage, I bought it, fixed it up and moved him in. He loved it.

Then his brother had a mental crisis while on a road trip to the East Coast. I helped get him out of jail, tried to rescue his vehicle from impound and his kids dog from a pound- and only saved the dog. UD President Emeritus Dan Curran even drove down to Delaware from Philly to pitch in and help with the rescue. Dr. Dan is a prince among men- he’d only met my guy one time- and yet, the two of them were road tripping together back to Philly with dog in tow.

I became POA for his brother too, saved his home from foreclosure, kicking out some squatters, fixing it up, putting his stuff in storage and selling it at a major profit- all while his brother was incarcerated in Columbus.

At one point, I asked probate lawyer David Brannon, who I’d started to eat lunch with together with one of my favorite friends, about the need for me to get guardianship over the vet. He told me no, it would just add a layer of unnecessary complexity and expense, that my two POA’s and the Fiduciary should be fine.

Let’s be clear: David Brannon later was elected to be the Probate Judge of Montgomery County. He hired his Chief Magistrate Lisa Wiseman (not to EVER be confused with the competent Judge Mary Wiseman) and Brannon has proven to be a liar and someone I wouldn’t trust to watch my dog- or my veterans dog.

Fast forward to November of 2023. Working with his psychiatric physicians assistant at the VA, we start reducing one of the Anti-psychotics he’s on to try to not knock him out so bad at night.He was struggling to stay awake during daylight hours. And just as we reduced it- and he’s all happy, he decides to go on a bender and it all goes to shit.

As my old employee who’s father was a mentally ill veteran with a 100% rating told me, “You’re not there for him when he’s well, you’re there for when he’s sick.” And when he’s sick, he’s far from lovable, kind, generous or safe to be around.

You probably should read this post next: When probate court and an incompetent psychiatrist kills a friendship ^[7]

Now, remember I started talking about “Competency Porn” at the beginning of this post, and you’ve probably been scratching your head since. Let’s clear up something, to be rated 100% mentally disabled by the VA, you are declared incompetent. Hence my POA’s and the fiduciary role. To be given a guardian by probate court, you are rated Incompetent. Yet, the VA doctors who have him on meds we deemed ineffective long ago, and a probate judge who thinks he and his magistrate know what they are doing, said that a “Guardian” who lives in Centerville would be better suited to manage this incompetent trainwreck than me. Which sort of says that I’m incompetent too.

On April Fools day of this year, I was at IKEA when my phone rang about 6 pm- I’d not heard from him- or seen much of him since November of 23. I answered “Are you OK” and nothing- then the line went dead. I called back. No answer.

At 12:25 am on April 2nd, a voice mail comes through:

Yeah, I know what to do. I know what to fucking say to you. This is fucking ridiculous man your linked with somebody bigger than you bigger than me bigger than all of us and you're fucking with my TV in my home. What the fuck man? I got three remotes. I really only need one god dammed remote. You're pissing me off Man, Fuck you…”

Yep, this experiment is working well. Then a few days later at 2:30 in the afternoon, he walks over to my office, we sit out on the deck. He looks like death. He’s totally out of shape and winded from walking less than 100 yards. He’s rambling. He’s grateful for all I did for him, he doesn’t hate me, he wants help with his meds, he wants to take trips together, he wants to keep the other guy as guardian. He’s all over the map. I’m behind at work, I tell him, we can talk this weekend.

At 7:15pm as I’m getting ready to go to hockey- and his son calls. His Dad’s in the Oregon District- drunk- and locked out of his car. Then I get a call from some good Samaritan women- who are sitting with the drunk by his car. I head over, I pick him up. The car is part parked on the curb. He’d been at Toxic Brew- he said the bartender took his keys. He volunteers to go to the VA, I take him there- and see the former ward nurse manager from 7s in the ER. I can’t talk to them- because I’m not his POA anymore. I go back to try to find the keys- no one at Toxic admits to having the keys. I call his son back- the guardian. I’m late for hockey.

Next day- I’m getting the car towed to a secure location and keys made. I’m coordinating with the guardian. I’m updating the VA fiduciary examiner- and telling him this ain’t working. The guardian who admitted from day one, that he’d never be able to do what I do for the veteran, but he’s confident he’ll be able to handle him just by controlling the money flow. He now knows that not to be true.

The VA patient advocate listens patiently as I tell him how this is failing the veteran. How the rules for removing POA’s and the Fiduciary weren’t followed. He sounds compassionate and caring and on my side, but his hands are tied.

Here’s the link to the rules on Fiduciary removal- ^[8] it’s government legal speak and long and involved. And of course, there’s an equally dense rule on Power of Attorney ^[9]. None of this says anything about guardianship, that’s because the VA has their fiduciary program ^[10]– which is federal while guardianship is state. The VA does not require guardianship- unless you are an incompetent Psychiatrist at the Dayton VA named Dr. Gina Guadagno. And for some reason, she still has a job there.

Since the visit on the porch, he decided to bust out the front window of his house. The house is trashed. The back yard was overgrown. The house isn’t fit for human habitation or a dogs. Here’s a few photos to help you visualize:

What’s crazy is he’d been in the hospital for weeks before I took these and his brother hadn’t bothered to at least try to clean up the bathroom- or organize it.

When he went into the hospital, I went and got the dog, a 5 year old German Shepherd, who has spent over a year and a half with me of his 5 year life. When his dad would go to volunteer, he’d be dropped off at my office. When his dad was in the hospital, he was here. When I first brought him over, he immediately ran to my dogs food bowl and scarfed it down. He didn’t want to eat in the other house, probably because of the filth.

After seeing the inside of the house, I immediately contacted the guardian and told him he had to get the house cleaned and the yard cut. He asked about getting my old cleaner to do it- and he claimed his yard guy would take care of things. It took several days for his yard guy- and my cleaner won’t do it if the brother is there lurking. We try to schedule a date for her to do her magic.

At this point, I’m wondering WTF this guardian is actually doing for him. I look online and find that he’d not paid his bond:

TO: Lisa Wiseman, Magistrate
Case number XXXXXXXXXXXXX
RE: (Guardian’s Name)/Ohio Casualty
Guardianship of XXXXXX
Date: May 6, 2025
We have not been paid the renewal bond premium for the above referenced case. Please keep the
invoice in the case file as a reminder when it is time for an accounting or case termination.
Our invoice #29168 in the amount of $1000 is attached.

and that the VA was now saying they needed a court order to relieve the POA that named me as POA. Really?
The guardian responds in his “APPLICATION TERMINATE POWER OF ATTORNEY FOR HEALTH CARE”

In 2023 this court Appointed (Name) as Guardian of the Person and Estate of (incompetent veteran), prior
to this date David Esrati had been acting as emergency guardian and as Power of Attorney for Health Care.
During a stay at the Dayton VA, (incompetent veteran) revoked this power attorney prior to the appointment of
(name) as guardian and prior to the appointment of David Esrati as Emergency Guardian.
Recently the VA – Medical Department reached out to the undersigned and indicated that the Power of
Attorney for Health Care was still active and still “in their system.” This is ironic, because the revocation
of the power of attorney for health care is what ultimately resulted in David Esrati applying to become
guardian and (name) actually being appointed as Guardian.

Incompetence.

In the mean time, the veteran has been on the psych ward for weeks, and then is supposed to go to the “Dom” for a 6 week intensive alcohol/drug counseling program. He lasts less than 2 weeks, and just before the house detox is supposed to happen- he comes home on a Friday.

The house cleaning was scheduled for Monday- and then, the incompetent one, cancelled it- because he was embarrassed and thought he should clean first. This really screwed up my cleaning persons schedule.

It was not my plan to let the dog back into that shit show, I wouldn’t let my dog live in that. But, apparently, Judge Brannon doesn’t give a shit about a dog- or a disabled veteran.

I am tired of Brannon not doing his job, the guardian not managing his ward, and the VA sitting on the sidelines. Brannon had seen the photos, and in our hearing a week ago Thursday, he didn’t care about anything, other than the guardian saying he wasn’t making any money taking care of this veteran- that he takes too much time. When I tried to explain, this is because he does take time, care and feeding, which I was good at, Brannon tells me to shut up- and that I shouldn’t even be involved in this case at this point.

Funny, because I’d filed for a removal of the Guardian, based on the conditions and mistreatment of the veteran. Brannon overruled it- and think he’s fine.

When the dog was getting screwed- I did the naughty thing, and texted Brannon on his cell phone, while copying the veterans son. this is called ex parte communication – and it’s considered a no-no, unless of course, you’re former Judge Dick Skelton ^[11].

David (Brannon), on Friday, (the vet) walked out of the Dom rehab program. The VA didn’t bother to tell (guardian). I found out because (the vet) told my “Little brother” who was in Indianapolis.
I was watching (the vets) dog, Brutus.
I told (the guardian) at 10:06 PM “(the vet) left the dom today. He’s not come for Brutus yet. I only heard because he called Eric (my little brother)”
He texted back “Oh my gosh. No one informed me”
Now, if the VA requires him to have a guardian, you would think, they’d inform him of (the vet) leaving the program? This is the problem with the VA that you don’t understand.
At 4 pm on Sat- I saw (the vet) in front of his house as I was driving to Cincy to see a concert with friends. I didn’t watch to see what his reaction was- he looked like hell.
Around that time, he started texting my little brother about Brutus. I told him to tell (the vet) I wasn’t there.
At 8:16pm Eric texted me “(the vet’s) saying he’ll come get Brutus from your house.”
I warned him to tell (the vet), if he tried to break in, all hell would break loose.
At 9pm- I got a text- “I would like get my dog back. You still up? “
I texted back- “call your guardian” I was just driving back from Cincy.
I heard nothing Sunday.
I did check to see if the house had been cleaned. The front door window is still not repaired.
Apparently, (the vet), who is incompetent, told the cleaner, she can’t come today, because the house is too disgusting- and he has to clean before she comes.
She won’t go if he or his brother is there. And the dog has to be gone too.
I tell (guardian)- I’ll watch the dog until after the house is clean- and safe. After that, I’m done.
(the vet) comes to the office around 4:45- walks in – takes the dog. He looks like hell- and admits he feels like hell. He calls me names, blames me for taking photos to show you the squalor he’s caused.
Your investigator never went to the house. He interviewed someone on a psych ward, who’s been determined incompetent by the VA and your court. (guardian) agrees, he would never do what I used to do for (the vet)- and that he can’t. He also can’t find anyone to administer the meds 2x a day and confirm he’s taking them. That’s what I did. The reason I bought the first house- and the 2nd- was so he was within walking distance from me.
And- while he may claim he hates me- you’d hate me too if you were on the wrong med mix- one that we ruled out long ago.
Your own investigator reported (the vet) as saying he has problems with Benzos- yet (the vet) tried to accuse me of messing with his benzos.
You don’t seem to give a shit about (the vet). Or his dog. Or doing the right thing.
My recommendation is for you to go to the house yourself, (address), and do the inspection yourself tomorrow. That dog deserves better. I’ve probably had custody of him for almost 1.5 years of his 5 years on this planet.
You figure out the solution- since you are the genius.
I’ll wait until I hear back from you- by EOB Wed. If not, I’m telling the story – with the photos- and making sure you and your magistrate- and the VA are held accountable- not for the care of (the vet)- because none of you care, but of the dog.
I’m pretty sure you will never be re-elected after I’m done with the story.
You know my number- if you want to call and discuss options that can keep the dog safe- and maybe even help (the vet), I’m all ears.
But lets be clear, when I was giving him his meds- he wasn’t breaking windows, trashing his house, living in squalor, looking like shit, and was presentable.
I’m cc’ing his son on this text. (sons name), came and testified, you didn’t listen. (son) will tell you that this has gone to shit. But- I guess he doesn’t care either.
I thought you and I were friends at one time. Now I know better.

Of course Brannon didn’t do a damn thing.

Now, of course, there’s more to the story of this megalomaniac that’s convinced he’s the probate court judge for life. I’ve got information about how staff has quit because of his Magistrates incompetence, and how others are leaving. I hope to have some juicy communications for you to read soon. This is the problem with the little deal the two parties worked out- where judges are never challenged once they ascend to the throne.

Friends from out of state tell me to call the ASPCA or some dog protective service to have them go rescue the poor dog. When I went to solve the window replacement on Thursday- that dog was so happy to see me. I wrote Brannon again:

David Brannon- the glass company is ready to install the new front door glass. (guardian) won’t do anything. (the vet) and his brother (name)- won’t answer their phones. They’re home. I walked over and saw the car. Poor Brutus heard me and started barking. If they don’t answer the door- and let the glass guys take care of it. I told them to call me. I’ll call the police- and I’ll take the dog back – and the cops can deal with (the vet)- since you and (the guardian) are absolutely incompetent on that front.
I haven’t forgotten about you- the post is still coming. I hope every dog lover in Montgomery County makes your life miserable and guarantees you never get re-elected.
Or- you can leave your courthouse- and supervise. I shouldn’t have to. But- Brutus deserves better. And so do the people of Montgomery County.

Standing up to these people is something they aren’t used to. They can’t screw with me like they do with everyone else. I’ve been blackballed, mocked, and ridiculed ever since Turner illegally arrested me for silently protesting his illegal secret work sessions. I’ve not gotten justice when I was embezzled, and only by the luck of Prosecutor Anthony Schoen doing his job, the veteran got his $3K back ^[12]. I’ve got a $72K judgement- and she’s skipped to Florida where criminals go to hide assets.

After the glass company was done, I sent one last communication:

Mr. (Guardian), David Brannon, (son). The glass guys showed, (The Vet) and (his brother) wouldn’t answer the door- Brutus was agitated. I called the cops for backup just in case. Finally- (the vet) came to the door in skivvies- and brutus rushed out to see me. (The Vet) took a bit to figure it out- and was willing to put Brutus in the back yard so the glass guys could do their job. I cancelled the police call. You’re welcome. This is why being his POA and being right around the corner was so effective. Whether or not the crazy incompetent mistreated veteran likes it or not- he can’t function without help. Why am I still doing this? Because I’m a veteran- and we don’t leave other veterans to struggle. That’s what judges, VA docs and lawyers do. Now- figure out how you are going to take care of this without me.

It was after this, last Thursday, that Brannon wrote the Ohio Supreme Court to ask for a visiting judge- because NOW- he needs to recuse himself- and his magistrate is too deep in shit to get herself out.

The next court date to rule on the removal of my “invalid POA” that the VA can’t make up their minds is valid or not is August 12th. In the meantime, the dog will be living in squalor with a veteran who is still on the wrong meds, unsupported by the VA or his Guardian, and the dog is paying the price.

It was my decision to allow the veteran to get the dog – because he’d made progress with his meds and was able to function with some assistance. Once that safety net was removed, the poor dog is cooped up in a filthy house with two sleepy crazy guys most of the day.

I shouldn’t have to beg a judge, chase down a guardian, or battle the VA just to keep a dog safe and a veteran alive. But here we are. The people entrusted with power have abandoned their duty. The courtroom is a circus, the VA a ghost, and the guardian phones it in. And in the middle of this bureaucratic disaster stands Brutus, a loyal, innocent dog, living in filth with two men unfit to care for themselves, let alone another living being.

If Judge Brannon had a shred of decency, he’d step down. If the VA had any integrity, they’d intervene. If the guardian had a conscience, he’d admit he’s in over his head.

But none of them are doing their jobs, so once again, I’m the one standing in the gap.

If this outrages you as it should, don’t just shake your head, pick up the phone. Call the Montgomery County Probate Court at 937-225-4988 ^[13] or email [email protected] and say this:

“Brutus deserves better—and if you won’t act, the voters will.”

Because the people of Montgomery County deserve a judge who understands justice, not just wears the robe.

Song: Brutus Deserves Better by David Esrati