Best Dog Story!

Discussion in 'Campfire' started by AR Thumper, Dec 3, 2012.

  1. AR Thumper

    AR Thumper Well-Known Member

    I got this e-mail a while back & thought I would share it...:wink:
    Subject: Best Dog Story!

    Take a minute or 2 and read this one to the end........
    Great story!

    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.

    I saw the sealed envelope. I had completely forgotten about that. "Okay, Reggie," I said out loud, "let's see if your previous owner has any advice."


    To Whomever 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. He knew something was different.

    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 hoards 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.

    Next, commands. Reggie knows the obvious ones ---"sit," "stay," "come," "heel."

    He knows hand signals, too: He knows "ball" and "food" and "bone" and "treat" like nobody's business.

    Feeding schedule: twice a day, regular store-bought stuff; the shelter has the brand.

    He's up on his shots. 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. 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.

    And that's why I need to share one more bit of info with you...His name's not 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. But if someone is reading this ... well it means that his new owner should know his real name. His real name is "Tank." Because, that is what I drive.

    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 to the shelter ... in the "event" ... to tell them that Tank
    could be put up for adoption. Luckily, my CO 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.

    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.

    If I have to give up Tank to keep those terrible people from coming to the US 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. 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.


    If you can read this without getting a lump in your throat or a tear in your eye, you just ain't right.
    Last edited: Dec 3, 2012
  2. Dang............................

  3. dwight

    dwight Well-Known Member

    Reminds me of jimbo's dog tank from rnt. He had to put tank down not too long ago
  4. skip1411

    skip1411 Well-Known Member

    That is a great story.
  5. damlockman

    damlockman Well-Known Member


    I am standing in Wal-Mart waiting for my food from the food court with tears in my eyes and people looking at me like I have lost my mind. But if they had a heart and spent anytime in the military or read what I just did and not do the same thing. They are a lot tougher than me!!!!!!!
  6. crookedwillar

    crookedwillar Well-Known Member

    Thank the good Lord for the ones who serve our country and for the dogs that become a best friend.They are truly a gift from GOD.:flag:
  7. crappieitis

    crappieitis Well-Known Member

  8. mikebri

    mikebri Well-Known Member

  9. wallhanger1

    wallhanger1 Well-Known Member

    love those kind of stories :up:
  10. grizzly6985

    grizzly6985 Well-Known Member

    Cant say that I exspected that when I started reading this! Good story and yes i had a lump in my throat. God Bless our service Men and Women! :flag:
  11. Sylamore

    Sylamore Super Moderator Staff Member

    When I came home from Viet Nam the most outward, enthusiastic welcome home, came from my dog. :thumb: