Thanx a lot.   
      
      
   Teared up like I've not done since Spanky.   
      
      
   -> If this story doesn't tug at your heart strings, nothing will.   
   ->     
   -> BEST DOG STORY EVER.   
   ->     
   -> Is it true? Who cares, it's a tear jerker, whether you're a dog lover or   
   not.   
   ->     
   -> They told me the big black Lab's name was Reggie, as I looked at him   
   lying in   
   -> his pen. The shelter was clean, no-kill, and the people really friendly.   
   I'd   
   -> only been in the area for six months, but everywhere I went in the small   
   -> college town, people were welcoming and open.  Everyone waves when you   
   pass   
   -> them on the street.   
   ->     
   -> But something was still missing as I attempted to settle in to my new   
   life   
   -> here, and I thought a dog couldn't hurt. Give me someone to talk to. And   
   I had   
   -> just seen Reggie's advertisement on the local news. The shelter said   
   they had   
   -> received numerous calls right after, but they said the people who had   
   come down   
   -> to see him just didn't look like "Lab people," whatever that meant. They   
   -> must've thought I did.   
   ->     
   -> But at first, I thought the shelter had misjudged me in giving me Reggie   
   and   
   -> his things, which consisted of a dog pad, bag of toys almost all of   
   which were   
   -> brand new tennis balls, his dishes and a sealed letter from his previous   
   owner.   
   ->     
   -> See, Reggie and I didn't really hit it off when we got home. We   
   struggled for   
   -> two weeks (which is how long the shelter told me to give him to adjust   
   to his   
   -> new home). Maybe it was the fact that I was trying to adjust, too.    
   Maybe we   
   -> were too much alike.   
   ->     
   -> For some reason, his stuff (except for the tennis balls --- he wouldn't   
   go   
   -> anywhere without two stuffed in his mouth) got tossed in with all of my   
   other   
   -> unpacked boxes.  I guess I didn't really think he'd need all his old   
   stuff,   
   -> that I'd get him new things once he settled in. But it became pretty   
   clear   
   -> pretty soon that he wasn't going to.   
   ->     
   -> I tried the normal commands the shelter told me he knew, ones like "sit"   
   and   
   -> "stay" and "come" and "heel," and he'd follow them - when he felt like   
   it. He   
   -> never really seemed to listen when I called his name --- sure, he'd look   
   in my   
   -> direction after the fourth or fifth time I said it, but then he'd just   
   go back   
   -> to doing whatever. When I'd ask again, you could almost see him sigh and   
   then   
   -> grudgingly obey.   
   ->     
   -> This just wasn't going to work. He chewed up a couple of shoes and some   
   -> unpacked boxes.  I was a little too stern with him and he resented it, I   
   could   
   -> tell.   
   ->     
   -> The friction got so bad that I couldn't wait for the two weeks to be up,   
   and   
   -> when it was, I was in `full-on' search mode for my cell phone amid all   
   of my   
   -> unpacked stuff. I remembered leaving it on the stack of boxes for the   
   guest   
   -> room, but I also mumbled, rather cynically, that the "damn dog probably   
   hid it   
   -> on me."   
   ->     
   -> Finally, I found it, but before I could punch up the shelter's number, I   
   also   
   -> found his pad and other toys from the shelter. I tossed the pad in   
   Reggie's   
   -> direction and he snuffed it and wagged, some of the most enthusiasm I'd   
   seen   
   -> since bringing him home.   
   -> But then I called, "Hey, Reggie, you like that?  Come here and I'll give   
   you a   
   -> treat." Instead, he sort of glanced in my direction - maybe "glared" is   
   more   
   -> accurate - and then gave a discontented sigh and flopped down ... with   
   his back   
   -> to me.   
   ->     
   -> Well, that's not going to do it either, I thought. And I punched the   
   shelter   
   -> phone number.   
   ->     
   -> But I hung up when I saw the sealed envelope. I had completely forgotten   
   about   
   -> that, too. "Okay, Reggie," I said out loud, "let's see if your previous   
   owner   
   -> has any advice."   
   ->     
   -> ____________ _________ _________ _________   
   ->     
   -> To Whoever Gets My Dog:   
   ->     
   -> Well, I can't say that I'm happy you're reading this, a letter I told   
   the   
   -> shelter could only be opened by Reggie's new owner. I'm not even happy   
   writing   
   -> it. If you're reading this, it means I just got back from my last car   
   ride with   
   -> my Lab after dropping him off at the shelter. He knew something was   
   different.   
   -> I have packed up his pad and toys before and set them by the back door   
   before a   
   -> trip, but this time... it's like he knew something was wrong.   
   ->     
   -> And something is wrong...which is why I have to try to make it right.   
   ->     
   -> So let me tell you about my Lab in the hopes that it will help you bond   
   with   
   -> him and he with you.   
   ->     
   -> First, he loves tennis balls. The more the merrier. Sometimes I think   
   he's part   
   -> squirrel, the way he hordes them. He usually always has two in his   
   mouth, and   
   -> he tries to get a third in there. Hasn't done it yet.   
   ->     
   -> Doesn't matter where you throw them, he'll bound after them, so be   
   careful.   
   -> Don't do it by any roads. I made that mistake once, and it almost cost   
   him   
   -> dearly.   
   ->     
   -> Next, commands.   
   ->     
   -> Maybe the shelter staff already told you, but I'll go over them again:   
   -> Reggie knows the obvious ones ---"sit," "stay," "come," "heel."   
   ->     
   -> He knows hand signals, too:"back" to turn around and go back when you   
   put your   
   -> hand straight up; and "over" if you put your hand out right or left.   
   "Shake"   
   -> for shaking water off, and "paw" for a high-five. He does "down" when he   
   feels   
   -> like lying down --- I bet you could work on that with him some more. He   
   knows   
   -> "ball" and "food" and "bone" and "treat" like nobody's business.   
   ->     
   -> I trained Reggie with small food treats. Nothing opens his ears like   
   little   
   -> pieces of hot dog.   
   ->     
   -> Feeding schedule: twice a day, once about seven in the morning, and   
   again at   
   -> six in the evening. Regular store-bought stuff; the shelter has the   
   brand.   
   ->     
   -> He's up on his shots. Call the clinic on 9th Street and update his info   
   with   
   -> yours; they'll make sure to send you reminders for when he's due. Be   
   -> forewarned: Reggie hates the vet.  Good luck getting him in the car. I   
   don't   
   -> know how he knows when it's time to go to the vet, but he knows.   
   ->     
   -> Finally, give him some time.   
   ->     
   -> I've never been married, so it's only been Reggie and me for his whole   
   life.   
   -> He's gone everywhere with me, so please include him on your daily car   
   rides if   
   -> you can. He sits well in the backseat, and he doesn't bark or complain.   
   He just   
   -> loves to be around people, and me most especially.   
   ->     
   -> Which means that this transition is going to be hard, with him going to   
   live   
   -> with someone new.   
   ->     
   -> And that's why I need to share one more bit of info with you....   
   ->     
   -> His name's not Reggie.   
   ->     
   -> I don't know what made me do it, but when I dropped him off at the   
   shelter, I   
   -> told them his name was Reggie.   
   ->     
   -> He's a smart dog, he'll get used to it and will respond to it, of that I   
   have   
   -> no doubt. But I just couldn't bear to give them his real name. For me to   
   do   
   -> that, it seemed so final, that handing him over to the shelter was as   
   good as   
   -> me admitting that I'd never see him again. And if I end up coming back,   
   getting   
   -> him, and tearing up this letter, it means everything's fine.   
   ->     
   -> But if someone else is reading it, well ... well it means that his new   
   owner   
   -> should know his real name. It'll help you bond with him. Who knows,   
   maybe   
   -> you'll even notice a change in his demeanor if he's been giving you   
   problems.   
   ->     
   -> His real name is "Tank."   
   ->     
   -> Because, that is what I drive.   
   ->     
   -> Again, if you're reading this and you're from the area, maybe my name   
   has been   
   -> on the news. I told the shelter that they couldn't make "Reggie   
   "available for   
   -> adoption until they received word from my company commander.   
   ->     
   -> You see, my parents are gone, I have no siblings, no one I could've left   
   Tank   
   -> with, and it was my only real request of the Army upon my deployment to   
   Iraq,   
   -> that they make one phone call the shelter ... in the "event" ... to tell   
   them   
   -> that Tank could be put up for adoption.   
   ->     
   -> Luckily, my colonel is a dog-guy, too, and he knew where my platoon was   
   headed.   
   -> He said he'd do it personally. And if you're reading this, then he made   
   good on   
   -> his word.   
   ->     
   -> Well, this letter is getting downright depressing, even though, frankly,   
   -> I'm just writing it for my dog. I couldn't imagine if I was writing it   
   for a   
   -> wife and kids and family ... but still, Tank has been my family for the   
   -> last six years, almost as long as the Army has been my family.   
   ->     
   -> And now I hope and pray that you make him part of your family, too, and   
   that he   
   -> will adjust and come to love you the same way he loved me.   
   ->     
   -> That unconditional love from a dog is what I take with me to Iraq as an   
   -> inspiration to do something selfless, to protect innocent people from   
   those who   
   -> would do terrible things ... and to keep those terrible people from   
   coming to   
   -> the U.S.  If I have to give up Tank in order to do it, I am glad to have   
   done   
   -> so. He is my example of service and of love.   
   ->     
   -> I hope I honored him by my service to my country and comrades.   
   ->     
   -> All right, that's enough.   
   ->     
   -> I deploy this evening and have to drop this letter off at the shelter. I   
   don't   
   -> think I'll say another good-bye to Tank, though. I cried too much the   
   first   
   -> time. Maybe I'll peek in on him and see if he finally got that third   
   tennis   
   -> ball in his mouth.   
   ->     
   -> Good luck with Tank. Give him a good home, and give him an extra kiss   
   goodnight   
   -> - every night - from me.   
   ->     
   -> Thank you,  Paul Mallory   
   -> ____________ _________ _________ _______   
   ->     
   -> I folded the letter and slipped it back in the envelope. Sure, I had   
   heard of   
   -> Paul Mallory, everyone in town knew him, even new people like me. Local   
   kid,   
   -> killed in Iraq a few months ago and posthumously earning the Silver Star   
   when   
   -> he gave his life to save three buddies.  Flags had been at half-mast all   
   -> summer.   
   ->     
   -> I leaned forward in my chair and rested my elbows on my knees, staring   
   at the   
   -> dog.   
   ->     
   -> "Hey, Tank," I said quietly.   
   ->     
   -> The dog's head whipped up, his ears cocked and his eyes bright.   
   ->     
   -> "C`mere boy."   
   ->     
   -> He was instantly on his feet, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor.   
   He sat   
   -> in front of me, his head tilted, searching for the name he hadn't heard   
   in   
   -> months.   
   ->     
   -> "Tank," I whispered.   
   ->     
   -> His tail swished.   
   ->     
   -> I kept whispering his name, over and over, and each time, his ears   
   lowered, his   
   -> eyes softened, and his posture relaxed as a wave of contentment just   
   seemed to   
   -> flood him. I stroked his ears, rubbed his shoulders, buried my face   
   -> into his scruff and hugged him.   
   ->     
   -> "It's me now, Tank, just you and me. Your old pal gave you to me."   
   ->     
   -> Tank reached up and licked my cheek.   
   ->     
   -> "So whatdaya say we play some ball?" His ears perked again.   
   ->     
   -> "Yeah? Ball? You like that? Ball?" Tank tore from my hands and   
   disappeared into   
   -> the next room.   
   ->     
   -> And when he came back, he had three tennis balls in his mouth.   
   ->     
   ->     
   -> Regards,   
   ->     
   -> Roger   
   ->    
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